Two Left Feet
by Ms.Freestyle
Summary: Defines a person who is clumsy or awkward, especially in dance and if his inability to dance continues, Harry will force himself to accept Snape's offered help. SS/HP Slash COMPLETE
1. The First Steps

_Two Left Feet_

A/N: Thank you for joining me in a fresh, new tale.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. It all belongs to JK Rowling, Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Inc., Warner Bros., and any other entities involved. I do not make money/profit from this.

Warnings: There is some Ginny/Harry, but that will be resolved as we move further into our story. This fic takes place after the Deathly Hallows, but in order for this story to work, there have been a few adjustments. And I am in desperate need of a competent **beta**.

Posted on December 25, 2009

"The First Steps"

Professor Minerva McGonagall stood before the congregated seventh years of all four houses, many of which looked on with very worrisome countenances. Others with glazed over eyes and a few, like Ron and Hermione, with troubled eyes that darted around the classroom frantically. McGonagall had in her eyes the set of two. She was missing the third and main figure head. "Where is Potter?" she asked in an exhausted tone. "Can't he ever be on time?" She paced the front of the classroom, until ten after, the doors to the Great Hall burst open and Harry scrambled forwards to join his cluster of friends.

"First day of school and you're late," she shook her head. "You know what to expect from me, Mr. Potter. I will not tolerate tardiness."

"Sorry, professor, but-"

"No excuses. Let's move on, shall we?" She folded her hands and her very annoyed frown suddenly lightened. "I'm sure you are all wondering why I assembled you this late evening. I do not wish to keep you from your studies for too long, so if you will all bear with me, we can move through this fairly quickly. This year, I am making an attempt to join the Houses together in a way it has never been done before. This year, you will all learn together through dance."

There was a pause to allow the students a few moments to either express their eager anticipation, indifference, or dread. Among the many whispering voices, McGonagall distinguished Luna's voice commenting upon how lovely this was and several Ravenclaw girls thinking that this was both brilliant and awful. Some boys groaned and slapped their hands over their faces. But the Gryffindors seemed to be beaming. "Before you impose upon me the weight of your classes, I will have you know that these dance classes will occur three times a week for one hour, thirty minutes after dinner. That should give you time to refresh yourselves, digest, and put on your dancing shoes. These dance classes will happen every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, unless posted otherwise, here in the Great Hall. As of right now, I am still seeking the assistance of another professor, but for the first few weeks, Professor Slughorn has kindly offered his help. Any questions?"

As the students, mainly the Ravenclaws, questioned the teacher, Harry leaned over the table towards Ron and Hermione. "I guess this year is really going to be unlike any other."

"I'll say," said Ron looking very unsure of himself. "Dancing? With the lot of them? Can you see me dancing with some Slytherin?"

"That's the whole point, Ron. To encourage friendship, or at least, tolerance. Just because we've been divided doesn't mean that we should restrict our friendship to only those of certain houses. I think this is a wonderful idea. And we get to dance."

"Doesn't mean I have to like it. I don't want any Slytherin dancing with you." Ron put his arms around Hermione and pulled her in.

"This has nothing to do with that!"

Harry snickered then turned to look at his Ginny, who was seated several chairs away, whispering with Luna and blushing. She then turned to give McGonagall her attention when she caught Harry's eyes and smiled. Harry waved then smiled a very broad and toothy smile. Ginny gave him this hesitant smile in return and Harry turned away, wishing that he didn't always smile so oddly around her. Hermione laughed at her long time friend then McGonagall called everyone's attention. "If there are no more questions, then you are free to return to your dorms. Remember, be here at nine thirty sharp. Good night."

There was an eruption of noise as students pushed themselves away from the tables, grabbed their belongings, and headed for the door in a very rushed and chatty manner. Harry told Hermione and Ron that he'd meet them in the dorms. He wanted to catch up with Ginny and see how her day was going. He hadn't seen her since earlier in the summer.

Ginny was smiling at Luna. They were so engrossed in a conversation about Woodlyn fairies that she hadn't heard Harry creep up behind her. Only once Harry touched her shoulder did she look upon him. "Harry!" she smiled and her dazzling eyes held his. "Luna and I were just talking about the fairies in the forest."

"I can imagine," Harry responded, not really listening to Ginny at all. He was too busy admiring her glossy, perfect pair of pink, delicate lips. "You look brilliant today."

Luna's eyes wandered elsewhere, as if captured by something far more interesting. And as they neared the moving stairway, Luna turned the corner to join her fellow Ravenclaws while Ginny and Harry continued upwards. "Are we heading straight to the dormitories?" asked Ginny softly.

"Well, yeah. We have to get some sleep. We have early classes in the morning."

"Yes, that's right. Oh, if only…"

"If only what?"

"Nothing," Ginny smiled as they reached the Fat Lady.

Ginny and Harry exchanged a few words and brief kisses before they went their ways. As Harry fell onto his bed later that night, he thought that dance classes wouldn't be so bad, so long as he had Ginny there to tango with.

Harry Potter Harry Potter Harry Potter

It was time for their first class. Harry was hurrying along with Ron and Hermione by his side. First class, and they would be late if they weren't two floors down and in the Great Hall within the next seven minutes. "I knew we should've just left your dancing shoes!" Shouted Ron as he panted along.

"You can't expect me to dance in those bricks they call shoes!"

"Well, Harry and I are going to do it, and it'll be just fine."

"Would you two cut it out?" said Harry as they turned the corner and hurried down the flight of stairs. If they weren't snogging, they were arguing. It was madness!

"Hermione, you are mental. What makes you think that those heels are going to make you a better dancer?"

"Clearly you don't have a lot of experience in this sort of thing."

"I have enough," Ron attempted to defend himself. "I have had my share of dances."

"That one time at the Yule ball doesn't count. You never left your chair."

"I saw what had to be done. I could do it if I had to."

Finally, the Great Hall. Harry hurried from his friends and into the hall. There, he was greeted by every eye in the room. Several Slytherins snickered as Harry entered the room and McGonagall was looking at the clock. "Barely made it, Mr. Potter." She looked at Ron and Hermione and instead of wasting precious time, checked them off on the list.

McGonagall then proceeded to mention what would be expected of them in the class when a seated figure caught Harry's attention. To his great dismay, it was Professor Trelawney. She fiddled with her glasses and the hem of her robes. She kept checking her bag and looking at the clock. Harry wondered why she was here. "Professor Trelawney has graciously accepted by offer to assist with today's class as Professor Slughorn cannot make it."

McGonagall urged Trelawney closer, who nodded then in her hurry to rise, collided her pelvis with the table and nearly fell backwards. Once she was free of her chair and table, she hurried over to McGonagall. "Professor," she smiled, "I'm not so sure I can do this…."

"You'll be fine, professor," McGonagall then beckoned the awkward professor forward. "Hurry along."

Trelawney moved forwards, only to trip slightly then regain her balance. "Really, professor, I am not made for this sort of thing."

McGonagall passed something much like a glare before Trelawney looked down then hurried to her side.

Harry and the rest of the class began to think that McGonagall had tried some Slytherin tactic and blackmailed Trelawney into assisting her.

A moment later and music began to play. Acoustic guitars, trumpets, shakers, and even more foreign instruments filled the room with an upbeat rhythm. "Today, class, we will be starting you off with the most basic of Salsa dancing."

The entire class may have been familiar with that term, but most definitely not the style of dancing. Harry looked over his shoulders to see if anyone even remotely knew what they were supposed to do. Standing around and looking like disorder just struck seemed to be the thing to do. Harry resumed staring.

"I will need an assistant." McGonagall walked over to Hermione and offered her a hand.

Hermione seemed surprised, but accepted it hastily. She was pulled forwards and spun around before everyone's eyes. The class nodded and a few boys raised a brow. Maybe they could use dancing to entice the ladies.

"The Salsa, Mambo, Cha Cha, and Rumba have a common heritage and to some extent similar step patterns. The most universal basic step for Salsa starts with a tap left on the first beat, a step forward for men on the same foot, a step backwards for ladies, a rock step on the same foot and the sequence is finished by stepping back left, or forward, to close. Observe."

McGonagall took Hermione's hands in her and then noted, "Girls, try to have some firmness in your arms so that the boys can direct you. If you have spaghetti arms, you won't know when to turn or what the guy is trying to do."

She then had the music start from the beginning. After a series of beats, McGonagall stepped forwards on her left foot, using her left arm to push Hermione slightly back, then another beat and she moved back into place. The music continued and the students watched as they kept this simple move of moving on foot forwards, back, then backwards. "Though you should count the beats at first to familiarize yourself, the most important thing if that you dance constantly to the feel that both you and your partner find in the music."

A few more minutes passed in which everyone tried to understand how the Salsa worked. "The Salsa music is four beats to a bar of music, and therefore, four dance steps. For the more advanced Salsa dancers, you can think of this as quick-quick-slow. For everyone else, it's probably better to think of the movement as rock, rock, close, and tap." Hermione was released and McGonagall turned to her students. "Well, everyone find a partner, if there are more girls, or boys, just make do." McGonagall clapped her hands the students started swarming in masses to find a partner. Harry quickly found Ginny and they both laughed as they watched their fellow friends accidentally ending up with Slytherins.

"Mr. McGoldrick just dance with Mr. Samsung and get it over with. Or you can dance with Professor Trelawney and me."

Much to everyone's amusement, McGoldrick and Samsung chose McGonagall and Trelawney. "Well, now everyone form a circle. Boys on the inside and we shall begin."

A different song started, but the tempo was just as quick. Ginny looked at Harry and Harry took both her hands in his as McGonagall had done. He then pushed her right arm back. She didn't really move. "Try to stiffen your arms a bit, Gin."

Ginny laughed and tried to oblige. They counted the four beats then attempted it again. Ginny smiled. They were doing it, only they seemed a bit awkward as everyone else in the classroom did. "We can do this!" said Harry as he looked up. Almost everyone seemed to be dancing on their own beat. Except for a few students who were already twirling their girls and doing much more advanced moves. Surprisingly, Trelawney was better at this than Harry had expected. Maybe she had done some studying abroad?

"Let's twirl some girls, or boys, now shall we?" McGonagall released her partner then took Hermione's hand again. "Observe."

They stood in the center of the classroom. "Generally, the woman always mirrors the man's step, so while the man performs a forward movement, the woman performs a backward movement and visa versa. Now, how do you spin a girl? Well, the girl spins herself. If you try to force the spin you will injure her. The aim should be to build up sufficient momentum in the dance preceding the spin that when you indicate the spin she should have enough energy to do it." McGonagall continued dancing then at just the right beat, lifted and arm and Hermione followed it. It looked simple enough. They just had to time it and make sure the girl was paying attention… right?

They resumed dancing and Harry had a few chance to turn Ginny, who later, felt slightly ill at having been spun so many times.

"Girls, try to focus on one spot when turning." Called McGonagall. Then, to everyone's horror, she said, "Rotate partners. Boys, move one to the right. Girls, stay where you are. I will know if you've moved."

Ginny and Harry looked upon each other sadly as they moved over. Harry then found himself looking at some Ravenclaw girl. She smiled and Harry grinned. This was going to be slightly uncomfortable. As he offered his hands, she took them. They were dry and hot. It was strange. Harry then looked down the line. At some point, he was going to dance with each and every single girl here… possibly even some of the boys. Harry nodded. "Well, let's do this."

Severus Snape Severus Snape Severus Snape

Harry looked once more upon his schedule to remind himself which classes he was going to have today. He had Potions with Slughorn, Transfigurations with a new professor from Spain, Professor Yzaguirre, and as Harry went down the list, for Defense Against the Dark Arts there was only staff, which implied that a professor either has not been chosen or they were doomed to a substitute until they could find a permanent professor. At least Snape's name was no where on the list… or anyone's for that matter.

Feeling rather like rejoicing, Harry stabbed his red and golden coloured egg, added some salt and pepper, covered it with toast and ate. It was not like he had anything against the man. At least, not now. In fact, now he wasn't sure how he should feel towards Snape. The man had spared him his memories and… well… apparently lived. He didn't die like Harry anticipated. Or Snape for that matter. Poor fool. He was probably rolling on the hospital bed with embarrassment once he realised Nagaini's bite had not finished him off like it was supposed to. Harry chuckled.

Then the whole Hall lowered their voices into whispers. This was always an ominous sign. He dared to look up, and though he thought he had left all feelings of resentment back in Dumbledore's office, a feeling of utter animosity returned with vengeance. Severus Snape was alive and walking. Well, he knew he was alive, but… damn, it's so different when you see the person for yourself. Kind of like seeing a famous celebrity. They don't actually exist until you see them.

Snape was moving towards his seat with a cane in one hand and his neck… what was that thing around his neck? "It's a neck brace," Hermione explained to Ron who seemed completely baffled. "Muggles use it to help support the head when the neck has retained injury."

Both Ron and Harry let out a prolonged 'oh'. "Well, he doesn't look so intimidating with that brace thing. Lets us know that the bloody git is human after all."

"Ron, that's not necessary. He did a lot of us and for the Order."

"I know, but that doesn't change a thing. He's still a bloody bastard and I'm sure he will never change."

Hermione looked sadly upon her boyfriend. Harry directed his attention back to Snape, and as he did, the word 'staff' on his schedule morphed into Severus Snape. He pursed his lips. _Wonderful_.

"Hush, Ron, you make it sound like this is terrible."

"This is terrible! He's alive."

That thought made Harry's cringe even more so. How dare he live when so many others had fallen? And he got away with just a cane and a neck brace? Harry's fist clenched. He wanted so badly to do something, but what? It was not like he could yank Snape's soul from his body and thrust it into… say Remus'. Or Tonk's, or even Fred's body.

For the remainder of breakfast, Harry watched Snape closely. He was very much disturbed. The professor didn't seem to make much if any eye contact with anyone. He drank from a straw, touched nothing but liquids, and even then, consumed so very little. Eventually the breakfast feast was over and Harry was making his way to Defense Against the Dark Arts.

Harry was the very first student to arrive at the classroom. The place had not been decorated like it had been in his sixth year, two years ago. The room was plain, except for a few empty portraits hanging on the wall. Snape must've just recovered and agreed to take up his post again. Harry chose a random seat and sat down. Soon enough, students began filing in and filling the area around him. Ginny took the seat to his right and Hermione and Ron took his left. Suddenly, the door to the side of the front of the classroom opened. A cane could be heard clicking on the stone floor. Then entered Snape. He eased onto his chair then looked upon his students. To Harry's surprise, he spoke, "Welcome to NEWT Defense Against the Dark Arts," his voice was groggy and raspy.

The students' mouth fell open. Some twitched. It was quite evident that many wondered what had happened to him. Only Harry, Hermione, and Ron seemed to know. Snape preferred to keep it confidential. Then the chalk began to scribble away and instructions became apparent in a matter of time. That, and it seemed that Snape could not speak much. Harry wondered what Snape was doing here if he obviously hadn't fully recovered? The man's eyes began to open and close languidly. "He's going to fall asleep."

"I wonder if they have him on a drug…?" Hermione looked at Harry who shook his head. "Then a potion? He does not look well."

"He got bit by a poisonous snake, Hermione, and was left for dead. He shouldn't even be alive." A preposterous thought crossed Harry's mind. What if he was resurrected by the stone? No! It wasn't possible. Snape must've just been out of it due to something he was taking for his wounds.

Ginny then took his hand. "A snake? What about a snake?"

"I'll explain later," said Harry as stretched and then could hardly resist the urge to wake up his drowsy professor. He yawned, very loudly. The older wizard twitched and then winced in his attempts to survey the room. Harry quickly lowered his eyes to his desk.

A moment later, he dared to look at his professor. He saw Snape looking right at him, but his face was visibly neutral. Did Snape know it was him? Harry tried to make things less obvious by going about his work. Then, several seconds later, Harry's will was overwhelmed with the urge to annoy Snape. To get his attention. To piss him off in any way he could manage. Seeing that Snape is about to fall asleep on the students again, Harry took out his book and dropped it on his desk. Several students jumped. Snape's eyes flare open. He looks at Harry again and narrows his eyes.

Harry evades Snape's eyes by looking at the blackboard. There were instructions. Clearly, Snape had intended them to start off with a rudimentary spell in the hopes that they wouldn't need his assistance. Harry thought different. For once, he wanted to be challenged. He stood up. "Professor." His voice was a bit loud and carried well across the classroom, startling several classmates and the professor.

Snape looked right at Harry with obvious irritation. "What?" his voice sounded like sandpaper against chalkboard.

"We are in an advanced Defense Against the Dark Arts. We covered this spell some terms ago. Wouldn't it be prudent to have us learn a more advanced incantation?"

"Review what you have learned. Then we will continue."

"But professor, this spell hardly needs reviewing. Everyone here has…"

"Silence." He glared at Harry. "Review what you have learned before I move on."

Harry opened his mouth to press, but then he felt soft hands on his. He looked down at Ginny who was shaking her head. "He's ill and tired. Next time."

Harry plopped down in his seat with evident irritation. "That man should be in Azkaban for what he did."

Harry Potter Harry Potter Harry Potter

The bell rang and Harry spared Snape one more glare before exiting the room. He was just about to turn the corridor when Ginny caught his hand and asked, "Why were you being such a nuisance?"

"Excuse me?" Harry asked incredulously.

"I know you don't like Snape, but he has helped the Order numerous times, Harry! He has always placed us before himself!"

"He shouldn't be back already though… He got attacked by a giant, poisonous snake, for Merlin sake! They should have made him wait another term or two!"

"What does that have to do with anything? It will only take so long for a person to heal. And we have some of the best Healers in the world here. You aren't making any sense!"

Clearly frustrated, Harry shrugged and stared at the floor to the left of Ginny. "Nevertheless, you can't hope that we will ever get along. Too much history between us. And him and my father."

A closing door called their attention. Harry looked over his shoulder then held his breath. Snape was leaning against his cane, looking directly at Harry with heavy eyes.

If Harry allowed the burning in his gut to guide his actions, then he'd feel shamed, apologize and go his separate way. However, today Harry carried no consideration for Snape and his previously spewed words.

Without sparing Snape another glance, he took Ginny's hand and disappeared around the corridor.

A/N: If there is anything that doesn't sound quite right to those that do dance, please do inform me. I'm just reiterating what my dance professor has told me, or what I remember. That, and if there's anything you are hoping to read in future chapters, tell me. I might not have thought of it yet.

Teasers: "Potter! What did I tell you about blanks?!"

"It's rude to stare, Potter."

"It still bleeds, sir?"

Thank you for reading. Please review. And Happy Holidays!


	2. La Salsa

_Two Left Feet_

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Nor do I make money from writing these fan fictions.

A/N: Thank you for the reviews. To clear some things, Harry returned to Hogwarts to complete education after his adventures in the seventh book. So technically, that would put him in the same grade as Ginny since there is no eight year.

Chapter 2:

"La Salsa"

Posted January 1 2010

Before long, Harry came to the most discouraging conclusion that his skills in dance class were almost nonexistence. Compared to how well he excelled at most of his other classes, he thought he should at the very least be able to become proficient at the simplest of steps. To add to his distress, he lacked the creativity and the confidence to attempt the more advanced steps. When he looked at his classmates, they were doing very well. Hermione was nearly flawless. She had grace, rhythm, and style; everything that Harry lacked, especially today. The girls seemed too reliant on the blokes and instead of caressing the floor with light feet and grace, they dragged themselves heavily, stomped and tripped. _Come on, Harry. Basics, basics! Forwards, return. Backwards. Double… or was it single? Fuuuuck._

"Remember, forward, backwards. Try to keep a steady rhythm Weasley. You too, Potter. Feel the music! Let it channel through you! Alright, class, change partners."

Harry was glad to be rid of the Hufflepuff girl he was dancing with. She seemed all the more weak kneed like the previous girl. "Hi, Harry," greeted Luna. "How was your day?"

After quickly glancing around the room, Harry took Luna into his arms, "Brilliant. Yup. Up until this class."

"Why is that, Harry? Oh! You're moving the wrong way. Try to keep up with the rhythm." Luna then attempted to lead Harry. "You there's a double on this beat. Not a blank."

"Wait, what?"

"Come on, Harry. This is basic."

"Yeah, but what did you say?"

"You're such an awkward dancer, Harry. I'm more afraid of getting my feet stepped on," Luna giggled. "It's alright. I've got Gwengil lotion. That'll heal any wound on my feet."

"Huh?"

"Oh, look, it's Professor Slughorn! I think you should take me across the room so I won't have to dance with him. I feel very silly when dancing with a teacher."

"Really?"

"I don't think most girls mind him. But I do," Luna tried guiding Harry a ways away from Slughorn. "Oh, and Ginny is definitely improving. Hermione, however, is by far the best dancer here. Is there any girl you don't like dancing with, Harry?"

With his head trying to process so much, Harry felt much like stopping and taking a ten minute break. "Um, I don't know."

"It's ok. I hope you don't mind dancing with me. Before long, we'll all just have to accept that you can't escape every- Ow! Oh Harry! That was my foot!"

"I'm so sorry!"

"Well, it's alright. I have that lotion on me." Luna slipped from Harry's hands and moved towards her bag. Harry stopped dancing then turned to look at the girls around him. Alright, so maybe not everyone was dancing as incredibly as before.

However, before the night was over, Harry had stepped on the feet of at least four different girls. That, and he couldn't seem to keep a steady rhythm. "Potter! What did I tell you about blanks?!"

_What? Someone is shooting blanks? _He stared at his dance partner.

"There are no blanks in salsa," she explained. "Some times you don't move."

"Well, it's harder to lead than you think."

This night wasn't going well. Not at all, and Harry dreaded to think that it was just the second week of school. And he had to do this for the next two terms. Bloody hell. He wanted to stomp on his partner's foot.

Nothing could make this night worse. Nothing…. And then… "Evening, Professor. How are you feeling?"

Harry turned around to see that Snape had entered the room and was being greeted by McGonagall. He was leaning against the threshold of the hall, with his cane relaxed against him and that neck brace… It just looked bloody uncomfortable and it flawed the imposing character Snape had always held together.

Then, just as Harry was doing his best to lead, he heard a raspy, almost inaudible chuckle from the entrance. Harry released his dance partner and proceeded to switch. If Snape was chuckling, it couldn't be at him. But by his sixth dance partner, Harry was finally facing the doorway and saw that Snape was watching him with a very amused smirk on his face. _What's that bastard smirking at?_ "What are you laughing at?" demanded Harry as he spun a girl a third of a beat after everyone else.

"Language, Mr. Potter." McGonagall looked incredulously at Harry.

"Well, do you know how to dance, _professor?_ Why don't you give it a shot?"

Snape pushed himself off the threshold and left without another word said or glance made.

"Mr. Potter," said McGonagall, "Detention tomorrow night."

Harry Potter Harry Potter Harry Potter

Straight after breakfast the following day, Harry hurried to DADA. He suspected that they should be close to learning new techniques and spells that he hadn't heard of before. He felt very anxious at the possibility of showing his own achievements and even helping out others since he very much doubted Snape would be able to. However, today the students were out of their seats, wondering around the classroom and busy chatting. "Where's Snape?" asked Harry as he took his assumed seat next Hermione.

"I… I don't know. Actually, I think he might not be in today. I didn't see him at breakfast."

"Hmm. It's not like the poor bugger to sleep in. I wonder what's got his snake."

"Maybe he had to go to the Healer's today. I can only imagine that with his wounds he'd need constant care. Which reminds me, what did you say to him last night? He seemed to be enjoying himself watching us dance and then you said something and made him leave."

"He was laughing at me. I asked if he could do better and if so, why not try."

"Oh, Harry. You can't expect him to be physically active at the moment. His neck is in a brace!" Hermione's forehead smacked onto her open palm. She sighed and shook her head. "Some days, Harry, you really are thick."

Harry rolled his eyes then looked over at his girlfriend, who was watching but not smiling. She seemed very displeased with Harry as well_. Girls_. They were so difficult to please some days.

Moments later, and the headmistress entered. She moved through the aisles and towards the front where she bewitched the chalk to scribble that most horrible word.

_Paper. _

What had they done to deserve one? "Since Professor Snape is unable to teach at the present time, he has passed onto me your next essay prompt. It will be due a month from today, so use this time to get a head start." Parchment flew from her hands towards every student. Harry snatched one out of the air and looked at it. Five feet?! How could Snape do this to them?!

"Take out your textbooks. Not dilly-dallying. And save you questions for Professor Snape. He should be available later this week."

"I told you," Hermione whispered to Harry. "Poor bloke's trying to make a recovery and you're here badmouthing him."

Harry started at his parchment. He would get to this later. He had something he'd rather accomplish sooner.

So as the students began pairing off in the attempt to ease their assignment, Harry moved towards the front of the classroom. McGonagall raised her head. "Yes, Mr. Potter?"

"Professor, I was wondering, if you had the time, do you think I could receive some extra help in dance?"

"No, Mr. Potter, that is not possible. My duties as a headmistress occupies most of my time and I cannot solely grant you attention while in class. I have so many other students too, but I will do my best to ensure you excel." She nodded then waved him off.

Harry returned to his seat, wondering who, if any, could help him improve.

That one goal sent Harry bouncing from teacher to teacher through the remainder of the week. In between classes and after each class, Harry would drop in on the teacher and ask if they had any experience in dance and if so, could they dedicate a bit of their time to teaching him. Professor Sprout, Professor Hooch, Hagrid, and Pomfrey admitted to having close to nil experience in dance. Professor Slughorn, Professor Flitwick, and Pince told Harry that while they may have some, they do not have the time to help him advance. Harry would have to seek help from elsewhere. At the end of the list was wacky Professor Trelawney. He sighed and reminded himself that she may be weird, but if she had the experience… And she didn't seem to be too awkward while assisting McGonagall, so maybe… just maybe she knew a thing or two.

When he walked into her classroom after Divinations one fine afternoon, she looked up at him through her thick, round glasses and said, "I thought you might be dropping by. And I know why you are here, and the answer is no. Absolutely no. I will have nothing more to do with dance as I am made not for the art of rhythm and activity. I am better suited here, so if you would so kindly as look elsewhere." She then shooed Harry out of her classroom and closed the door on him. Harry raised his brow then coughed as dust flew into his face.

This plan was getting him nowhere.

And by the next dance class, Harry was so sure that he was doomed to be known forever as the boy who couldn't dance.

McGonagall began the music and by this time, Harry would feel his stomach churn and drop. This was hopeless. He would never be a great dance. Not even mediocre. He wanted to sit this one out. So he walked over to the chairs and joined the pile of bags and purses in solitude. McGonagall, who was at the time trying to help another couple, saw Harry in all his misery in the corner of the room. "I'll be right back. Do the best you can."

She hurried over towards Harry, who only stared at the ground. "Potter, really. If you want to improve your technique, the best way is to get out there and practise. You know that better than anyone else here."

"But these are not spells or transfigurations. This is something I've never been familiar with. Except for the Yule ball. And that was a bloody disaster! No one is as terrible at dance as me should ever be allowed near a dance floor."

"Potter, Harry, we all had to start somewhere. Would you believe that I was as terrible and ungraceful as you once, some many, many years ago?"

"That's impossible, Professor."

McGonagall smiled then looked up and away from Harry. "Ah, Severus. How are you?"

"Splendid," his voice was soaked with sarcasm. "I actually wish to talk with you about a certain student."

"Oh really? I'll be in my office after class, Severus. We may talk then."

Snape nodded then turned his eyes on Harry. "Evening, Potter."

"Professor," Harry reluctantly inclined his head towards his professor.

"Potter here is looking for someone who'll help him master the art of dance."

_Great_. Thought Harry. Like Snape needed to know more about his troubles so he could further ridicule him.

"However, I cannot set aside time for him." McGonagall then left to help the couple she was tending to before. "Try to be civil, you two."

Harry ran his hand through his hair then dared to look up at Snape who was still looking down at him. "Once my injuries have properly healed and if you are still interested, I would not mind training you."

Harry suppressed his urge to laugh and instead stood up then walked away to join his classmates.

Severus Snape Severus Snape Severus Snape

"What is the difference between the Rumba and the salsa? The techniques can be similar, and involve hip-sway over the standing leg. However, salsa is typically done as a quick-quick slow rhythm in a eight count meter. Rumba is generally much slower and sensual," McGonagall smiled, "This is because there is only a transfer of weight from one foot to the other on beat one of each bar. All the moves of the beat are the hips, so the music emphasizes the dancing of the hips. Combine this with the slow tempo of the music, and you have a very romantic dance. I need a volunteer."

A young Slytherin girl stepped forwards and McGonagall took her into her arms. "Watch carefully, as steps are taken on beats two, three, and four. Watch as my weight transfer and turns are performed on the intervening half beats. Keep your weight on your forward foot and restrain from moving your upper torso throughout the dance."

The music was slightly slower, but Harry did not think this would help him. He was just catching onto salsa too. "I don't think I'm going to like this very much."

"You might actually have an easier time with this, Harry," Hermione commented.

"No, really. I think not. I am so fucked."

"Harry, don't say that. We'll help you out."

"We can only dance like once. And that's it, we have to switch partners and there are too many girls in this class for us to dance again."

"I could try to give you some outside time help, Harry. It isn't a problem."

"How can you? You have like ten classes this term! You are always studying and Ron can barely dance himself."

"Hey, I dance better than you most days."

"I know, that's why I need to find someone to help me," Harry was frustrated.

"Maybe you can ask someone in this class? I'm sure there's someone here that would want to help you."

Harry stared at some of the girls and imagined them getting carried away and thinking that he secretly wanted to date them or snog them or something. "I can't do that. Ginny would be suspicious. I would too if she was taking personal lessons from some bloke."

"Well, then I guess we can't help you, Harry." Hermione squeezed his shoulder. "But we'll try if we can."

That night's class was the longest by far. Moves that he had already learned and was just barely nailing were now at a slower tempo. Harry cursed and did his best, but the girls always seemed disappointed with him. Or maybe it was just him. He had a duty as a leader to guide his partners with grace and style. How as he supposed to get that at the rate he was going. When class finished, Ginny offered to walk back together. "No, I'm sorry, Gin, but I need some time alone."

"Harry, you're taking this class far too seriously. It's meant to relieve stress."

"And bring the Houses together, I know. Encourage friendship, yada yada, and all that crap. I really don't care right now; I just want to learn how to be better at this sort of stuff."

"Well, I'm here, if you ever want me to help you."

Harry nodded then left the Hall with his mine working overtime to kill his negative thoughts. A dance class shouldn't make one so angry so fast. But this one was, and as they progressed further into the term, his classes were getting more demanding and dance wasn't helping his stress.

It was making everything worse!

It was terrible that he couldn't master the most simple of steps.

And no one could help him!

And then Harry found himself at the door before the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. Snape's classroom.

Then Harry remembered that he offered. So he knocked. A voice granted him entrance and then an older witch walked out of the room, wearing white and carrying an bulky supply box. It must've been his healer. "Mr. Potter. How can I help you this evening?"

The voice, which was just some days ago as raspy and hard to the ears as sandpaper against flesh, was deep, sensual, like velvet. And to Harry's astonishment, the neck brace was gone, revealing snowy white flesh beneath an unbuttoned collar that was just barely covering two prominent puncture wounds. The swelling had gone down, but Nagini had forever branded Snape. Harry found his eyes riveted to the bit wound and Snape's neck.

"It's rude to stare, Potter." A drawer was forced opened and Snape withdrew gauze, which he fastened to his neck. Harry's eye then followed Snape's other arm down, which in his hand was a bloodied wrapping. "It still bleeds, sir?"

Snape did not answer him.

"Can I see it?"

Snape stared at Harry. "Pardon?"

"I… I want to see what it looks like. I was there, remember? I saw how terrible the wound was and I just wanted to see how it healed."

"What concern is it to you?"

"I'm curious!"

Snape plopped down onto his chair, then to Harry's astonishment, removed the gauze and tilted his head. Harry rushed forwards to peer down at the puncture wound, careful not to get too close. He held onto the chair and leaned forwards, gazing at how the stitches so smoothly dipped into the skin and weaved through. How the old, maroon brown blood caked onto the surface and the dark stitches. How there were de-saturated blue, green, and purple bruises around his neck where all else was a tinted white. How Snape smelled of dirt and earth, and how despite his wounds, had a perfectly sculpted neck. Harry struggled to breath. He couldn't get enough air, and when he did, he exhaled quickly, no doubt brushing Snape's neck. And then, the man turned to look at him. Harry's eyes locked with the professor's and then jumped back as if stunned. "Those look nasty. Do they still hurt?"

Snape nodded, but made no further comment.

"I'm actually here because I wanted to take you up on your offer."

"And after your earlier display, you expect me to oblige you?" Harry hadn't expected Snape to move, so when the man suddenly rose, Harry jumped back a few more feet.

"It's just that I really need help, and I was stupid to reject you like that! So, I'm really sorry, and I'm hoping that you'll still help me out."

"After everyone else turned you down? I heard rumours about your approaching Professor Trelawney."

"Yeah, well I was desperate! And I still am. Please."

Snape moved around the desk and was heading for the door. Harry panicked and chased after him. "Please, professor! I promise it won't be a waste of your time!"

But as Harry turned the corner, there was no Snape. Harry crossed his arms in disappointment. If Snape thought that was the last he would see of Harry, then he was in for a nasty headache.

A/N: Thank you for reading. I'll have the next chapter up shortly. Happy New Years!

**Teasers:**

"It's weird and frankly, wrong."

"You must've threatened him thoroughly."

"Look at me."


	3. Two Left Feet

_Two Left Feet_

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Nor do I make profit from this.

A/N: Thank you for all the reviews.

Chapter 3:

"Two Left Feet"

"You know, you could put forth more effort. You're just standing there; half the time staring," commented Ginny.

"I'm not inspired right now," Ron replied as he stared at the opposite wall. "I am not feeling the music. Its tempo is too slow."

"No, you just want to understand why Harry isn't getting any of this."

"It's rubbish if you ask me. He's adding two more beats and is needlessly shifting weight. It's like he doesn't know his left foot from his right."

"Don't be such a bother. Some people just need a bit more time."

"Blimey, Ginny. He's been like that since day one. Even I got some style on him. The whole thing's a joke." Ron and Ginny turned to look at how awkward Harry was dancing… if one could call it that. What Harry was actually doing was kicking his feet randomly and twitching his hip. It was almost as embarrassing to watch.

After class, Ginny approached Harry. "Did you find someone to help you?"

"You think I really need it, huh?"

Ginny nodded quickly.

"Well, I did, but they're being a stubborn git."

"Try harder, and give that person a reason to dance with you. I'm sure whoever it is, they really wouldn't mind. You're Harry after all."

Harry nodded then made his way towards the dorm.

So Ginny suggested that he push, huh? Well, Harry was most definitely going to push it until Snape gave up and _swept_ him off his feet. Yes… that sounded brilliant. Only, it also was a bit queer, and Harry didn't need people buggering in. He'd have to keep it on the low if Snape ever conceded to help him.

After that Thursday's Defense class, Harry lagged behind and patiently waited until it was only him and Snape. "Afternoon, professor."

After dropping his student's papers on his desk, he looked up exhaustedly. "Whenever you lag behind, it is never a good thing. What do you want, Mr. Potter?"

"Well, professor, I've been doing a lot of thinking and I know you have a busy schedule and all, but your job is to help the students and I am a student and in need of your assistance." Harry smiled temerariously and then waited.

However, Snape gave Harry the distinct impression that he was apathetic towards Harry's view regarding his job. Snape crossed over until he stood in front of Harry opposite the desk. He peered down then said, "No."

"Why?!"

"No, Potter. Absolutely not."

"Then why did you suggest it in the first place?"

"To help you and perhaps get on better terms, but you made it apparent that my help was in the least desired."

Harry stood so quickly his chair toppled over. "Well, you knew why, didn't you?"

"It must've been related to my extracurricular activities as the Dark Lord's follower, or your father's low opinion of me." Snape then turned and left; his cane tapping the floor in a consistent, quick tempo. It almost reminded Harry of the Salsa. He growled then slouched onto the other chair. Why did everything about Snape bother him so much?

By the following Defense class, Snape was giving a demo on a multitude of elemental charms and how to manipulate them. He started off with fire as it was one of the handiest besides water. As Harry watched Snape contain fire into a small, hot, bright ball, he felt his bad routine, or boy habits, urging him to do something to piss off the professor. With everyone's attention focused on the fire, Harry chewed on a small piece of parchment then waited for Snape to move around the ball of fire. "When I compress the air surrounding the fire, the ball itself changes shape…"

Harry conjured a straw then fired just as Hermione gripped his arm.

The spitball hurled through the air and hit the fireball in the dead center. Hermione's grip on Harry's arm tightened, but Harry was so amused that he actually hit the fireball and not Snape. "Let me try this again."

"No, Harry!" she whispered lowly. "You'll make us lose points and you'll end up in a detention!"

Too late, Harry shot another spitball and it flew through the classroom and would have hit Snape if the man wasn't already prepared. It ricocheted off an invisible barrier and smacked Harry's forehead. The whole class had witnessed the event and burst out into laugher. Even Harry found himself laughing as he fell onto a chair. It was just so unexpected that he couldn't contain himself. Then as Harry regained himself, he looked over at Snape who was not laughing, but at least didn't seem upset. He resumed his lesson as soon as everyone composed themselves. "With proper technique, fireballs can be manipulated to home in on said targets. Within the term, you will learn how to master this technique."

When Snape had dismissed everyone, Ginny approached Harry. "What were you thinking?! Why were you trying to hit Snape with spitballs?!"

Harry walked on, smiling, then shrugging.

At that moment, he didn't care about anything but spitballs, fire, and Snape.

Harry Potter Harry Potter Harry Potter

"I'm going for a walk," said Harry as he made his way towards the common room entrance.

"Innit a bit late to be wandering the corridors?" Ask Ron.

"He's right. It's after hours and don't you have homework?" Hermione asked as she looked over his text book.

"I'm frustrated, and besides, I have my cloak." Harry winked then left before another word was said.

He was made aware that Snape prowls the corridors at this time. What better time to catch the man then when he's obligated to be out and about. Harry just had to find him and avoid everyone else. Which, luckily for Harry, would be very easy because he possessed the very handy Marauder's Map. He whipped it out of his pocket and had a look at the surrounding area. Filch was no where to be seen and Snape… ah, he wasn't very far at all. "I wonder if he makes it a habit to chase after Gryffindor students."

With that distasteful thought on his mind, Harry continued on his quest to find Snape. When his dot in the map was close, just around the corner, Harry folded the map and tucked it away. He waited just on the other side of the wall as Snape came around. The man did not notice him, so Harry cleared his throat.

Snape spun around, robes flaring and then a wand extending from the darkness. "Potter!"

Harry raised his hands to shield his eyes. "Evening, professor," he quickly said as his eyes fixed to Snape's wand.

"Why are you always wandering about at night?" The wand was lowered.

"I'm not always out after hours. Only when there is are things to resolve. And tonight is one of those nights."

"My answer still stands."

"Professor," Harry begun as he drew closer to the taller man, "I am determined."

"Return to your dormitory immediately. If you go willingly, I will not take points for your impertinence."

Harry made no move to leave. "What if I told you I will not leave, no matter how many points you take, unless you agree to dance with me right here and now?"

"Tell me this, Mr. Potter. Why should I come to your aid when you take every opportunity presented to vex me and humiliate me?"

For a second, Harry stared stunned at Snape, completely at lost. Perhaps Snape was right. He didn't owe him this. Yet, deep down inside, there was something urging Harry on. If Snape was really opposed to helping him, then he would have made his point clear, but in a more Snapish way. Harry determined that because the man had not brought him to the headmistress and demanded a restraining order that Snape just needed a push. Or for Harry to really show him that he wanted to dance with him and was ready and willing to put aside their mutual disdain and learn to dance. So Harry chose his next move carefully. He observed Snape's posture and then advanced gingerly. He imagined Snape in the role of a girl, and him the bloke. He looked at Snape before carefully sliding his hand around Snape's waist, and then he reached for Snape's hand, taking it in his carefully. It was difficult to perceive if this was the best way to go at it, but Harry concluded his decision and now was standing with an arm full of Snape. And the man once again smelled like earth and woods.

Harry forgot where he was going with this. But he knew they were going beyond what was appropriate between a student and their teacher.

Then a soft voice resonated not too far from his ears and Snape had closed his eyes. "You are unyielding," the man spoke, then in two quick moves rearranged their positions so that he was in fact leading. "If we are going to do this, you must be willing to work with me." He held his arm steady and Harry's hand firmly. "Watch and move with me."

A confident hand found his and gripped it with assurance; it felt hot and foreign. Harry found his own hand trembling and his legs stiffening. Snape was forcing him to learn the reversed role and to Harry's horror, it was much easier. He sort of followed Snape, watching as Snape's foot went forwards and he just stepped back, but after the first step, he did not know which way to move. "The other foot, Potter," Snape instructed without even looking down at him. He was keeping a firm grip and distance between them. And all the while, maintaining a steady tempo. Harry occasionally used the wrong foot and scrambled around when trying to follow, but this was much easier then leading. At some points, it was almost intuit. Like, there was no other way to step. Then Snape spun him and Harry's world moved past him. A blood rush followed when Snape attempted to spin him twice in one shot, but Harry's feet tripped and he fell against the wall. "I know what the problem is." Snape's head was silhouetted in the darkness.

"Yeah? What's that?"

"You dance with two left feet."

Severus Snape Severus Snape Severus Snape

When Harry stumbled into his dorm some time later, his confidence had been renewed. He gave a self-assuring smile to Hermione and Ron then carried himself up into his dorm.

Harry knew that Snape was a challenging professor. He knew that Snape would not bother and waste his energies and time if he saw an unworthy effort. However, Harry concluded that he wanted to dance. He did not want to be left behind while his classmates progressed. He could not fail where Snape was concerned.

However, there was one downfall.

And by the next Defense Against the Dark Arts class, it was itching Harry's nerves. There was still that old, lingering habit to vex Snape when the older wizard either fell asleep or faced away from him and the opportunity often presented itself. Harry had to remind himself to not bugger the man otherwise he risks losing any and all chance at excelling in dance.

But when it came down to really preventing further nasty habits, Harry had to tell himself that Snape did not fall asleep in class because he had become uninterested in teaching and conduct. It was a side effect from the antidotes and meds Snape was taking. And when Snape's attention was undivided, it was because a student really needed his help. Harry should not obstruct class just to satisfy urges.

However, Harry's restraining actions caught a lot of people's attentions. Mainly that of his closer friends. Ron casually brought it up one day when they were walking to dance class. "So, I've noticed that you've been nicer to Snape. Did you at least drive a hard bargain?"

"What are you talking about?" Harry frowned and played it off as everything being in order.

"All week you've been nothing but civil. It's weird and frankly, wrong."

"Weren't you just the other telling me to spare the man from my inhumanities?"

"No. That was Hermione and maybe Ginny."

"Well I've had a change of heart. And I don't want to leave on such terrible terms. This is my last year and I'm Dark Lord free. Why not make the best of it?"

"Cause you're always up for an adventure and down right dangerous tasks and if you-know-who won't provide one, you'll go out and find one."

"Yes, but what could've been more a more dangerous adventure then the one we were at last year? Hunting down the Horcruxes wasn't exactly fantastic."

"But it was all the thrill and adventure you craved. Admit it! It was fun!"

"And enough to satisfy me for a lifetime!"

McGonagall started the music and turned to find Harry behind her. She tapped him on the shoulder then asked, "How did everything go?"

"Great! Professor Snape's going to give me dance lessons."

"You must've threatened him thoroughly. What exactly did you promise him?"

Harry laughed then turned to see that Ron was half way across the room with Hermione. "Listen, please just don't tell anyone. I don't want to be bothered by it."

"It's no business of mine. I will check up on you two regularly though to see how you've progressed."

Harry smiled and was just about to find his place on the dance floor when McGonagall called him back, "And Potter? See if you can use your brilliant tactics to lure him into being my assistant."

When breakfast rolled around the following morning, Harry was reading the _Daily Prophet_ when a Slytherin approached Harry and pasted him something. "From Professor Snape," said the boy before he left.

It was a small enclosed parchment. He opened it and read it.

_My classroom. _

_Tonight and 7 o'clock sharp. _

_Do not be late._

_S.S._

Trepidation and excitement battled it out for dominance. The parchment shook in Harry's hands. His first lesson had come at last. Maybe by then they could arrange a schedule.

"What's that you got there?"

Harry folded the paper with haste and put it into his pocket. "Nothing," he told Ginny.

Ginny looked dubious. "You don't get excited over nothing. I know that look."

"Blimey, Ginny. It isn't anything important." Harry ate the last of his toast then was off.

He wasn't aware that Ginny had followed him until he turned the corridor.

"Harry!"

He stopped.

"I'm sorry. I hadn't meant to pry. I just wanted to know if you're free tonight."

"What for?"

"What for? Quidditch practise. I wanted you to be there to help me chose out team members. Have you forgotten?"

"No, but I'm not allowed to participate this term. Anyways, I don't really want to go. I'll feel bad about not being able to play."

"But then why did Professor McGonagall have you come back?"

"You know why. I've told you. I haven't completed the necessary amount of credits to receive a Hogwarts Diploma. I'm here to do just that. Dance just happens to be a requisite now."

"I get it. Ok. I'll see you later." Ginny stepped back slowly, watching Harry. For a moment, Harry felt like he was supposed to say or do something, but then she turned and disappeared into the Great Hall.

Harry Potter Harry Potter Harry Potter

Harry looked down once again at the note that specified their meeting place and time. It was exactly seven and Harry knocked on the door. To Harry's surprise, it swung open and creaked. He peered in and saw Snape standing by his desk, waiting with crossed arms. All the desks and chairs had vanished, leaving ample space for movement.

"Evening, professor," Harry's voice bounced between the walls. The acoustics were amazing.

"Close your mouth and come hither," Snape instructed before casually offering a hand.

Harry's eyes immediately fell onto the open hand. He stared as if waiting for something to happen. Then he remembered. "Oh…" How did he feel about taking Snape's hand again? Last time it made him feel a little funny in the head. It kind of made the hall do that spiny thing and his stomach tickle. It was nice and weird. He scratched the back of his head and stared some more.

Snape, obviously sensing the young wizard's discomfort, spoke, "Oh, Potter. This was your idea."

"Yeah, I know, it's just going to take some time to get used to."

"Do remember manners. Do not stare at my hand. Take it."

"You talk about it as if I can just take it and go."

"Potter…," Snape's tone was darkening.

"Yeah I know! Just give me a sec."

"If we are going to do this and we will, potter, you must first learn to touch me." Snape initiated the dance by taking Harry's hand in his. "Then, you must relax and trust me."

Harry's eyes stared hard at his hand as if any second now Snape was going to try something funny and curse him.

"Don't look at my hand. Look at me."

_Look at me…_

The last time Harry had really, truly looked at Snape's hands, they were bloodied and nearly transparent. And Snape was gurgling his own blood. He was going cold. He was slipping away.

And Harry's hand tightened around Snape's. He looked up at the wizard then his eyes searched for the two puncture wounds. For some reason, his eyes needed to see it again. His eyes fell onto Snape's neck, which was, as always, covered by his collar. Harry reached out with his free hand, but before it could even get close, a hand caught his and pulled it back. "What are you doing?"

Harry's eyes found Snape's. The dark eyes were guarded again. Though very confused and also searching. "Has your neck gotten better?"

"Excuse me?"

Harry wanted to shake his head in the hopes of throwing this preposterous thought out of his head. "Sorry. Never mind."

Then Snape responded. "It has not since you last saw it." Harry looked again into Snape's eye. "Let's begin?"

Harry nodded.

"Very well. What has Professor McGonagall taught you thus far?"

"The basic rhythm to the Salsa and now Rumba. The rudimentary forward and backward steps. How to turn, she tried to teach us a cross body lead…"

"Enough." Snape waved his wand and music sang without an exact source. It was like the sound was pouring out from the walls and it was… beautiful. Harry was momentarily stunned. Where did Snape learn of this? The quality was perfect. The music was coming from everywhere, filling his ears and making his legs twitchy. He wanted to dance!

Then Snape took his other hand and proceeded. Very quickly, he guided Harry into the Salsa dance. He stepped forwards, Harry stepped back. Then vise versa until they had a steady rhythm going. And eventually, Snape turned him. Harry did and nearly tripped over himself again. "When you turn, focus on one point."

Snape did it again. Harry tried to only look at Snape. It helped to clear his head.

"Now, turn me. Wait for the appropriate beat."

Harry waited until Snape was just about to step back to turn him. The man went willingly into a turn then stopped from turning again by stepping back on his right foot. Harry's eyes were riveted to Snape's feet.

"Try not to look at my feet to much. Feel the music."

Harry still couldn't look away. He felt if he did, he would start tripping again and so far, they were doing so well. And working hard enough that before long, his heart was working up a beat in sync with the tempo and he began to sweat.

"Hold on, let me take off my jumper!"

Snape released him with a slight push and as Harry stepped backwards, Snape continued to dance with his arms slightly raised and his movements were emphasis on the hips. He actually looked… sexy. He was even snapping his fingers and moving everything from his upper torso to his legs. Harry momentarily forgot he was supposed to take off his jumper.

"Now, a cross body lead," said Snape as soon as Harry came back to him. He grabbed Harry's hands and guided him forwards while he also stepped forwards. Harry thought they were going to collide, but trusted Snape enough to not allow such idiocy to interfere with his style. Then, Snape turned them and they stood at opposite sides. So that was how it was done. Harry nodded, then tried to copy. It took just a few times, and some dozen spins later, before he got it. "Hey, I'm getting this!"

"Keep practising."

As Harry watched Snape spin himself, he also noticed the sweat trickling down and disappearing into Snape's collar. So Harry wasn't the only one getting a good work out.

Snape then pulled Harry's closer and guided him into a more intimate, closed position. Harry's hand was on his shoulder. Snape's hand was on the small of his back. And they moved along, continuing the same pattern beat until the sixth song ended.

"Now, let's try the Rumba."

The tempo in the next song was slower, but still very lively. Harry just had to not go crazy with his steps. "Wait until she introduces the Cha Cha."

"The what?"

"It has many similarities to the Rumba and the Salsa, but differs as every third beat it a triple. I trust you've learned some terminology?"

"Of course!"

The hour ended and the music faded. Harry stood still very close to his DADA professor. "That will be it for now."

Being in close proximity with Snape was heady. And the music allowed them to escape, if only for an hour. It was a nice temporary relief.

"I cannot arrange a schedule with you for some time. My classes and detentions must be given priority. However, I will send word. We will go on a weekly basis."

"Can I assume the male position next time?"

"Have you paid attention to nothing? We've been switching off since we began."

Harry nodded, feeling rather foolish for asking.

"Have you learned to touch me?" Snape asked with a chuckle.

Harry stared hard at Snape, not really sure how to respond. It was a very suggestive question. "If I haven't?"

"Then next time we will work on exercises that will force you to adjust."

Harry swallowed heavily. He dared not think where suck activities would lead and what could possibly go wrong. "I trust you, if that's what you mean."

"Then I believe we are done for the night."

Harry agreed. He was tired and ready for rest.

He turned to leave and just as he reached the door, he heard Snape say, "And Potter."

"Yeah?"

"That was, I daresay, fun. I enjoyed myself."

Harry turned and left before Snape could see the smile creeping onto Harry's face.

A/N: Please review, and thank you for the constructive criticism. It really does help me.

Teasers:

"Harry, you don't look so good."

"Do you really want to know where Snape's quarters are?"

"I cannot guarantee that I will not slip, but I will do my best."


	4. Trust

_Two Left Feet_

A/N: Thank you for the wonderful reviews.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor do I make profit from this.

Posted on January 14th, 2010

Chapter 4:

"Trust"

The Monday following the weekend after Harry's first lesson with Snape held the promise of his yet to be scheduled meeting. On the table that morning, there was an assortment of toasts with jams, porridge with cream, teas and juices. Harry reached for the lion shaped sugar jar and tapped it nose. It came to life, wiggled its nose and walked over to Harry's bowl where it opened its mouth and poured sugar into the bowl. "That's good, thank you."

The lion resumed its place next to the salt and pepper shakers.

"Finally!" Hermione sighed with relief as Ron and Harry jumped. Ron nearly dropped his spoon into the bowl or porridge. "The prophet has something decent to say about someone."

"Can't be too important, I imagine." Ron pulled back his finger just as the bowl tried to snap it. "Did you see that?!" He pointed at the bowl.

"No, Ron. You're delusional from the lack of food," Harry turned back to Hermione. "What's it say?"

"Healer Selene Quinn will be awarded on October the 12th for her medical studies which have contributed and saved the lives of dozens of victims who have been exposed to a multitude of venom, including the life of Professor Severus Snape. That must've been the woman you saw leaving Professor Snape's office, Harry." Hermione turned the prophet towards Harry. A photograph in the left hand column featured an older lady with crazy bushy hair and thick glasses speaking to the press with Severus Snape behind her.

"I suppose. I couldn't imagine what else she would have been doing there."

"Bloody hell! What is wrong with these dishes?!" Cried Ron as he pushed his porridge away.

"There's nothing wrong with them," Harry chuckled as he watched the bowl growl and spit porridge from its mouth.

"I swear! McGonagall's got us all on a diet plan! I won't have it!"

"No, Ron. I think it's because you've been brutal to the dishes. Maybe you should be a little gentler with it." Hermione giggled.

The bowl then sprouted arms, picked up its large round portion, and marched away.

"What have you done to upset it?" Harry asked between hysterical laughs.

"It was the fork! It's got a nasty pointer."

"Keep that up and none of the dishes will want to serve you." Harry turned his attention towards the Slytherins that were walking by. Harry didn't want to admit it, but he knew that denying it only made him more aware of how eager he was for the next lesson with Snape. He had not received word all weekend about the next meeting, so he was expecting a note or something from Snape. However, no Slytherins ever came towards him and no owl visited him that morning. Harry glanced up at the head table. Snape wasn't there. It was rare to see him at breakfast. Harry wanted to conclude that if he did eat breakfast and that he ate in the privacy of his quarters. "Hmm…," now that Harry's thoughts brought him to the subject, he realised that he knew not of the location of Snape's personal chambers, or any other professor's except McGonagall's and Slughorn's.

"Something on your mind again? You have that look," Ginny sat down next to Harry, her back to the table. Her ginger hair was shiner today and as long and straight as ever. She caught his eyes with her smile.

Harry gave the smallest indication of a smile then spoke, "Not really." By the way she tilted her head and raised one brow, Ginny knew he was lying. "D'you know where Snape's quarters are?"

She nearly choked on a laugh. "No. Of course not. I can't imagine why I would want to either." Her laughs were rarely loud. They were almost always discreet.

"Well, in the case you needed to speak to him and you've been to all his other hideaways…."

"I don't know anyone who'd be that desperate to see him. If he's hiding way, then why not enjoy his absence?"

Well, no one could understand why unless they knew about Harry's lessons, but they were private and Harry wanted to withhold that information for as long as possible. If word leaked into the halls that Harry was seeking personal guidance in dance, then his pride would be in jeopardy. In addition, he wasn't sure if Snape preferred to keep his charity case on a low note. But since Snape agreed to help him and since Harry knew about Snape always following through on his promises, then the next worse thing could only be if Snape was forced to tutor even more students; making it so that time that was supposed to be spent on Harry was divided. Snape couldn't do one thing for Harry then be expected to only show favour with him.

And sharing was not okay with Harry at the present time.

However, by the end of breakfast, Harry had another thing to worry about. He had not received said note from Snape. He exited the Great Hall with Ginny by his side, rather curious about why it hadn't come. And he didn't have his Defense class till later in the afternoon. Hopefully he would receive something by then.

So, with some hope, Harry managed to get through most of his classes with ease, except for the new spells in Transfigurations, but Harry wanted to blame that on the new teacher. His accent was thick and because of his pronunciations, it was hard to discern consonants. He had to make a note to ask McGonagall later for assistance.

Then at last, it was the second to last class of the day. Snape's class. Harry did not hurry towards it, but did not take his time as Ron had. He walked along side Hermione and Ginny, talking casually about nonsense and doing his best to keep his anxiety in check. However, once again, Harry walked in to find Headmistress McGonagall taking care for an absent Snape. That could explain why Harry hadn't received a note. "In you seats and quiet please."

Something that felt like a heavy, sharp edged rock plunged onto the bottom of Harry's belly. _Oh god…_ McGonagall's presence was disconcerting and Harry hoped she wasn't there to relay depressing news; such as something horrible about Snape overdosing on antidote, Snape being out for an unknown extensive period of time, Snape having to take a leave of absence… or worse. Harry's skin chilled and he felt like he swallowed a bucket of ice along with that bolder. "Potter, are you alright?"

Harry blinked back into reality. His skin was covered in gooseflesh and it hurt. His fingers rarely felt this cold. "I'm just wandering about Professor Snape."

"That is a private matter, Potter. But he did leave an assignment behind which will be due at the end of class. He told me you were working on magical charms and manipulation. I expect you all to practise it today with your classmates. At the end of class, you will turn in the review at the end of the chapter."

The students groaned. That always happened when Snape was away.

Harry got up, to practise with Ginny, but when he faced the desk, he noticed a parcel on Snape's desk next to piles of papers. There was scribble on it, otherwise it looked ordinary. Harry wandered if it was for him. Then as McGonagall left the front to move around the classroom, Harry flicked his wand and the parcel soared across the room and into his hand. He slipped it into his pocket just as McGonagall turned around. If it wasn't for him, well then all he had to do was place it back on the desk. He waited until she was looking elsewhere before he turned the letter upwards. He grinned. It was for him! He just knew it! Quickly, he undid the wax seal and opened the note.

_Do not dare think I am trying to run away from you. You know where I went, and I will be back. Until then, practise and remember that you have a right foot._

Harry chuckled as he reread the address of the parcel. Now he knew why it couldn't be sent by owl or person.

_To the person with two left feet._

Harry really hoped he didn't become fond of Snape's apparent new nickname for him. At least it was better than all the others he'd been deemed.

Harry Potter Harry Potter Harry Potter

"Well, if it isn't Two Left Feet." Snape's folded his hands over his desk as Harry entered the classroom later that night.

"Is that supposed to be some kind of codename?"

Snape exhaled, "I fear so. A name for a project I have undertaken."

"And here I was scared that it was some sort of term of endearment." Harry laughed but Snape didn't seem amused.

"You think too highly of yourself. I believe you are here for a schedule?"

Harry nodded.

Snape's finger touched a parcel he was leaning over and pushed it into view. "Well, why didn't you just take it along with the other note?"

Harry recalled the note in his pocket. It suddenly felt heavier and for the life of him, Harry didn't know why consciously. "I didn't see it." Harry moved forwards, wary of Snape. Something was amiss. And it stunned Harry when he touched the parcel and Snape slapped his hand on the desk next to Harry's. "You will never touch anything on my desk again without my consent." Snape's eyes looked dangerously up at Harry's, and though he was still seated and Harry was standing, Harry felt vulnerable, as if expected to be attacked.

Harry stepped back. "I thought you meant to give it to me, but figured I would come for it if you couldn't deliver it to me."

"Why did you assume that?"

"It had my name on it."

Snape's closed his eyes. "You might not be the only one I am giving lessons to."

"You're giving lessons to someone else?" Harry's hand twitched and felt cold. He felt cold. Harry really didn't want this to become a habit. It was just as disconcerting as McGonagall every time she appeared in Snape's classroom.

Snape rose suddenly and Harry took a whole step back. "The note's yours. I will see you tomorrow." Snape swept out of the classroom before Harry could further pester him, leaving the doors open.

Harry stared at the path Snape had taken until he was sure he was in no more danger. Another thought he didn't want to consider. Snape would never endanger him. Not even if he was giving him hell and then some. Though he might be aggressive with him during dance… he might even toss him around and make his dizzy with those nasty spins and that scent of him… Then he might dip him and bring him up quickly and maybe…

Harry's eyes felt dry. He had been staring at the letter for too long now. His mind was doing a dance with possibilities that Harry really wished he would stop woolgathering about. Going back and forth between the real, snarky Snape and the imaginary Snape that would dare to go beyond their appropriate relationship to master the intimate art of dance. Harry snatched up the parcel and opened it with haste.

_Tomorrow night. _

That's all it said… "What time?!" Harry shook the note as if expecting the time to fall off the page and reveal itself. If Harry was early, Snape would ignore him. If he was late the consequences would be dire. "Bloody hell."

This was a dance Harry didn't want to engage in. He folded the note and put it in his pocket stuff in beside the other note. "Tomorrow night then." What was happening to him?

Severus Snape Severus Snape Severus Snape

"Going out again?" asked Ginny as she watched Harry career towards the exit, jumping over dorm mates and books and scattered pillows.

"Yeah. Need some fresh air."

"Don't get caught, Harry. Would you like me to go with you?"

"No. I need some time to myself."

Ginny nodded. "Alright. Watch out for Professor Snape."

"Always do," Harry smiled as he stepped over the portrait hole. He really couldn't afford to tell her. At least not until his proficiency began to show with satisfying results.

He hurried across the halls with his Marauders' Map in hand. Once he reached Snape's classroom, he entered and right away, the music began to flow. Snape stepped into view and did the customary bow before continuing forward. "Follow my moves, Potter, without my guidance."

Snape started with the simple steps they had rehearsed last time. Harry did his best while keeping in tempo. Only, he felt a little stiff and knew that Snape had noticed. The older wizard continued to move both upper and lower body with ease in a harmonized sync, but Harry's movements were deprived of the graceful flow proper dancing required. "If you don't mind me asking, where did you learn to dance?"

Snape didn't answer. Harry supposed the music was too loud, but Harry heard Snape just fine.

"Professor?"

"Clear your head, Potter, and listen only to the music."

It was easier for Harry to believe that Snape took lessons at some point in his life. Only, he must practise regularly, otherwise he would've forgotten most of this. Then again, Salsa and Rumba were very simple in their initial levels. Maybe once they advanced, then Harry would really get a taste of Snape's proficiency. If Snape was still as good as he must've been, then Harry just had to learn everything. And he wanted to learn quickly. "Perhaps I'd dance better if you danced with me." Harry's suggestion was purely educational, but he knew it could easily be construed as inappropriate.

Nevertheless, Snape was facing him within seconds and then his hands were fastened to Harry's. Harry's hands felt hot against Snape's, though his were not cold either. They were warm, but Harry's were so much warmer. At least they weren't sweaty like Ron's. But they were suddenly shaking and his arms were incredibly stiff. "Potter."

Harry's eyes jumped up to meet Snape's.

"Do we need to go over those exercises?"

Harry knew exactly which ones Snape meant. And his stomach felt like it was too small for all bees buzzing inside. It kind of hurt and it made him feel very uneasy. Harry didn't like this. So far, he didn't like any of the feelings that had come to associate themselves with Snape and his proximity. "No, sir." He responded, but his answer was weak and barely audible.

Then the cooler hands had released their grip on his hands and a flat hand was being pressed against his. Harry watched with fascination and glazed over eyes as Snape intertwined their fingers then squeezed. Harry couldn't swallow. There was some unconscious blockage in his throat.

Quickly, the tense pressure released and Snape ran his thumb over Harry's palm. "Relax," he whispered, and his voice shook the nerve endings on Harry's skin. His skin chilled.

"I am here to guide you until I have taught you all I know." Snape's hand was beneath Harry's wrist, tickling the sensitive skin with the lightest of touches. "If you need reassurance, every touch I bestow is intended to guide you and not _entice_. Should I touch you inappropriately, you need to inform me. I cannot guarantee that I will not slip, but I will do my best."

By this point, those large hands were sliding impassively over Harry's lower arms. Harry felt in the least disgusted. And that frightened him.

Then two words awoke him and broke into his thoughts, "Touch me." Snape's hands had become still and Harry's hovered above them. Harry's face felt aflame. He lowered his hands and ran them over Snape's palms, up his arms and then towards his elbow. Harry grasped a hold of Snape then looked at the man with attempted casualty. He wanted to prove that he could do this with the same passiveness Snape had displayed. But quickly, his hormonal teenage mind processed this into a game of dare, and to see how far one could go. How far would his professor let him go? He had played this game numerous times and always lost to his fellow lions. They could play until there was no more skin to touch, but Harry always panicked as soon as someone came within a few inches. Why was he willing with Snape? Was it because he was really just touching him through fabric? Either way, his hands moved upwards, finger tips first sweeping the surface with the lightest of touches. Then his hands touched down and he felt along Snape's shoulders, fingers moving upwards along the muscular arch and palms over the hard clavicle, only stopping when his thumbs grazed the base of Snape's neck. He waited for Snape to stop him, but the man never did. _Trust… this is for trust…_ But Harry felt that all this could do was complicate already confusing matters. Then his hands were moving of their own accord and soon he could feel the soft of the man's skin and it was… Harry didn't let that thought fully process. Harry's finger played with the hemming as casually as he could muster before they dared to go further and the music drowned his thoughts. He found what he was seeking. His touch feathered the wound and a hard, nearly painful, clenched stopped him from further touching. Harry nearly yelped. "Have you become obsessed?" Snape wrenched Harry's hands away from him.

"Never!"

"Does it satisfy you to know I bleed? That I too am susceptible to injuries? Does it fascinate you, Potter?"

"I'm not fascinated with anything!"

"Except the bite wound on my neck!" Snape demonstrated by unbuttoning his collar and pulling it away from the damaged skin.

Harry wanted to turn away, but his eyes were fixed and he could not stop. Snape's neck was hideous, bruised and there were tiny puncture wounds around the area… it must've been treatment for the wound. Dark brown was smeared across the multicoloured skin. And suddenly, Harry was reaching out again. His trance, only broken, when Snape's hand forced it away.

Then the music stopped.

"You will explain to me why my sustained injuries beguile you."

"You know why! I was there! I saw the mess and I heard you scream and I know what you look like when you're in severe pain! The wound was so terrible I thought that was going to be the last I would ever see of you." Harry stopped. His hands were trembling in Snape's grasp.

Then suddenly he was yanked forwards by a powerful wrench. Harry half thought he was going to find himself in an unexplainable situation, but Snape spun him, again and again and then they were dancing. "Trust me," Snape repeated to him.

They were flying across the floor. Snape had dropped the subject about Harry's hypnotization with his neck for a thorough lesson in dance. "Quick, quick, slow," Snape repeated over and over again until it became something like a chant in Harry's ear.

Harry Potter Harry Potter Harry Potter

"So you are receiving lessons from Professor Snape? That's nice." Luna smiled.

"You can't tell anyone, Luna. Especially Ginny."

"I don't think anyone would believe me even if I did. You can trust me." Luna nodded. "Although, why tell me?"

"Cause you're my friend and I needed someone to talk about these lessons. They've been very heavy with a lot of things."

"I can imagine. I hope the professor is treating you kindly. I think you should take some wrackspurts to him, they fly around your ear and make your head a little fuzzy."

"Thanks, but I think there's enough fuzziness."

Luna admired the shops at Hogsmeade from the outside, occasionally inspecting the displayed items, but always moving on. "You sure you don't want to look at anything?"

"No. I'm alright," Luna said with passiveness.

"Then would you like to go to the Hog's Head and get some butterbeer?"

"That sounds lovely," Luna followed Harry into the pub.

As soon as they entered, Harry's eyes widened as he saw Professor Snape seated in a corner with some stranger. He thought quickly and pulled Luna to a table just the opposite end of the pub where he could see Snape but Snape had his back to him. "That's strange. I didn't know Professor Snape had friends."

Harry didn't know either. But then they were sitting close. Perhaps the conservation was fascinating. Harry wandered what it was that Snape talked about. What captured the man's attention? Harry watched carefully, then they got up and were heading for door. They were so engrossed in their conversation that Snape walked by Harry and didn't even notice him. That was odd. "Hmm…."

"You want to follow them, don't you?" asked Luna, a bit of excitement evident in her tone.

"Yeah. Be right back."

Luna nodded.

Harry hurried and reached outside just as the tail of a black coat rounded the corner. Harry ran as lightly on his feet as he could. What could Snape be up too, going into the tight alleys of the streets? He turned the corner too, just as he heard a groan. His eyes' widened at the noise and his blood felt hot. Could the stranger have hurt Snape? Harry hurried forwards until he saw another alley. He stopped then turned and he felt something foul against the back of his throat.

"That's interesting…," Luna's voice broke through to him and he turned to look at her.

"Luna…"

"Harry, you don't look so good," Luna touched his face.

Harry's eyes moved slowly towards the embraced couple. Snape… pressing another man against the filthy walls…Snape… touching another man… Snape… snogging another man. Harry blinked several times, trying to change the image and they continued their embrace, unaware of the speculators. Until Harry tasted bile. He leaned forward. Memories of the last week heavy on his mind and hands still sensitive to the touch of the older wizard's hands. He retched.

Luna stepped back. "Harry!" He looked up and sure enough, Snape and his partner were looking directly at him. Bile rose and Harry's whole body jerked as he threw up the rest of that afternoon's lunch. What was wrong with him? What had gone wrong with him? Without another glance at his professor and supposed lover, Harry ran. He never wanted to smell earth again.

Severus Snape Severus Snape Severus Snape

Harry tossed a rock into the water. Beside him, Hagrid skipped stones merrily. "'Tis a calming thing. Skippin' rocks."

Harry chuckled. It was at times. Especially if you could identify your stress and accept it. Harry didn't want to accept that seeing Snape acting intimate towards someone could make him feel so queasy. It just didn't make sense when one thought about it. Now, if he saw Ginny snogging another bloke…. Harry felt his blood boiling again and his hands shaking. Who was that man anyways? Snogging Snape like some adolescent on the streets! Where his students could easily see him! Well, if they went looking. And why was he groaning? Did Snape's kisses really feel that good? Who would ever want to be kissed by him? Did the man even smell good up close?

"Yeah… calming," Harry threw a rock as far as he could. It smacked the water and splashed before sinking.

"Reckon it's going ter rain soon."

Did the man kiss Snape's neck? How long have they been involved?

Another rock smacked the surface with tremendous force.

"What's eatin' yeh, Harry?"

"Nothing. I'm just stressed."

"Can ay help?"

"No. It's fine. It's just stuff with classes. I should be studying more."

Hagrid nodded then turned to look up at the sky. "Here comes an owl."

Harry looked up at the white sky and distinguished a black owl riding the winds towards them. A letter fastened to him.

Well, it couldn't be from Snape. Not after that. Either the man would be too proud to be in Harry's presense again or was so bloody pissed at his disrupting the moment that he didn't want to bother with Harry anymore.

Soon the owl landed on the rock beside Harry and stretched out her leg. Attached was a small note. Harry looked at the address and immediately knew who sent it.

_Two Left Feet_

Snape had to stop calling Harry that. Harry read the rest of the note.

_Come to my office immediately._

A/N: So, what do you think Snape will talk about with Harry? Please review!

Teasers:

"Care to explain what you were doing lost in the alleys with Ms. Lovegood?"

"What is this really about?"

"I cannot tell you. Besides, I might not get another lesson. I did something stupid on Sunday."


	5. Another Kind of Dance

_Two Left Feet_

A/N: Thank you for all the wonderful reviews! If anyone is curious, I am still looking for a beta.

Chapter 5:

"Another Kind of Dance"

For a while, Harry's eyed riveted to the note in his sweaty hand, fearful of what was to come lest he heeded it and found Snape. If anything, he was prepared to beg for his dancing classes. Snape could give him detentions till he was also an old git and take house points until Gryffindor was knocked off the House Competition, but if he had better not dare cancel Harry's classes.

The charcoal black owl hooted impatiently and Harry looked to Hagrid, a small plead in his face. Ever since Hedwig's death, he had grown unaccustomed to carrying around owl treats. "How about this," he told the owl, "I'll give you a treat next time I visit the owlery."

She fluffed her wings then took off, seemingly satisfied with their bargain.

"Who's it from, Harry?" asked Hagrid as he casually skipped a stone.

Quickly glancing at Hagrid then back at his letter, Harry answered, "One of my professors. I'll be going now." Harry started off towards the castle. It never took Harry long to reach Snape's classroom. Since now it was located up on the second level and not way down in the dungeon. Harry stretched out his hand and knocked. He didn't want to worsen Snape's mood with impoliteness.

Then the wooden doors creaked open and Harry's face was greeted by a rush of escaping cold air. He blinked and entered, his eyes immediately falling onto his professor, who was sitting at his desk, hands with their tips together, suggesting that he was busy thinking; or contemplating Harry's punishment. But when Harry thought about it, he really hadn't done anything wrong. It was a Saturday afternoon and he was out having an adventure. It wasn't his fault Snape was up to something far more interesting than his mug of butterbeer.

"Feeling better?" the older wizard inquired, shattering the ear irritating silence.

There was a frown on Harry's face as he thought about it. He still couldn't believe he retched in front of his professor, Luna, and that mysterious older man. Harry unconsciously placed a hand over his stomach. It had calmed since yesterday's incident, but since then there has been something else disturbing him. He felt like eating chocolate. "Never better." His stomach felt like it was burning. It was that same unpleasant feeling he had when he knew he had to something and was procrastinating. Actually, it was worse. Like when your conscience is stabbing you when you want to procrastinate but have run out of things to do.

"Care to explain what you were doing lost in the alleys with Ms. Lovegood?"

"Saturday afternoon adventure. How about you?" A casually shrug followed his less than confession.

A smirk stretched from Snape's thin lips, "Likewise."

Ignoring his twitching hand, Harry inclined his head forwards. He felt uncomfortable having this conversation with his teacher, but since he was in the midst of it, he might as well say all that needed to be communicated. "I didn't know you were into blokes."

Snape closed his eyes and exhaled, but he made no comment about it.

Perhaps putting the spot light on Snape wasn't the brightest of ideas. Snape looked like he was in the least happy about Harry discovering this exciting bit of news. "I won't tell anyone. It's no one business."

Black eyes flickered towards Harry. "And for once you think like an adult." His tone was bitter.

Harry looked down at his feet, his eyes resting for a moment longer at his right. "You aren't going to cancel dance classes, are you?" It was his only concern.

"Because boy wonder caught me in a moment? If you are like the other students, seeing me in a promising embrace is probably scaring and is punishment enough." His short-lived chuckle reassured Harry.

Now Harry wouldn't have called what he witnessed an embrace, but if that's what his professor wanted to call it then oh well. "Then why call me here?"

Snape's eyes followed Harry's hand up to his eyes. "After yesterday's incident, I merely wanted to clear any uneasiness you might've felt towards me."

Harry's brows rose high on his forehead. The man was uncomfortable with the impression he left upon Harry! "How so?"

"You must know that I would never seek relations from students or anyone significantly younger than I."

A bubble of laugher was fighting against Harry's resistance. "You're worried that I will think you will be trying to come on to me!"

Snape frowned. "I can see now that you are not. Get out." Snape turned his eyes towards his work, and when he sensed that Harry had not left he looked up and froze. Harry had this look about him that was making the atmosphere around them tense. "Is there a problem with your two left feet that you cannot use them to take your scrawny arse out of my classroom?"

Withdrawing his wand, Harry circulated it around him until the desks were pushed back against the stone walls along with the chairs. Harry then took a few steps towards Snape and bowed with his left hand behind his back and his right hand extended. "Dance with me."

Snape looked at him incredulously. "It might have escaped your notice, but I have work."

"I was thinking that since I'm here, why don't you take a break and do a bit of dancing?"

Snape looked inquisitively at him for a moment. "What is this really about?"

"Dance with me and then we can talk. Please. Just for one song?" Harry jerked his wrist in order to urge Snape on. It was becoming heavy while hanging midair.

Snape really should have displayed his position over Harry and not given into the brat's wants, but one dance couldn't hurt. What was five minutes? He snapped his fingers and the door shut. The windows opened, and music begun to play.

Once privacy had been granted, he stood and took Harry's hand guiding them towards the center of the room where he walked around Harry while his extended hand just barely grace Harry's waist. "It is time for you to advance."

Harry suddenly felt like the next five minutes were going to be the most difficult thus far. He smiled and nodded. He accepted the challenge.

Snape touched Harry's elbow and raised their right hands. They moved forward with Harry's back just inches from Snape's chest. Snape guided him by nudging the heels of Harry's foot with the front of his. "Forward, side, forward," he first said. "Back…," he pulled Harry gently back with him, "…side, and together." They closed with their feet side by side.

Then as the music reached its peak, Snape suddenly shoved Harry from him with his right hand, but held onto his left. Harry fanned out with his left hand stretched out. Then Snape pulled him roughly against him and Harry found himself with his back right up against Snape's chest. The man guided him again and spun him. It was heady. He felt his brain sloshing around in his skull like an olive in a martini glass. His laughs were barely audible over the music. He was smiling, Snape was smiling. It was fantastic!

Snape's arms were only holding him.

And Harry was assuming the role of the female without the slightest opposition.

Then he was turned and Harry clung to Snape's arms when he was spun then abruptly stopped.

The song had ended. Their labourious breathing was unified.

It was all perfect, but the dance was over. Harry looked up to Snape, expecting the man to shove him. But there was a pregnant silence and then, "Do you wish to lead me?"

His heart was fluttering madly. It was ridiculous! Then he nodded and Snape turned them so Harry soon found himself with Snape in his arms. A second song soon followed.

Harry could hardly see where he was going. His eyes leveled with the defined muscles behind Snape's shoulder… and when he looked up, the collar. He closed his eyes and shook his head as he gently pushed Snape forwards then to the side. His scent was strong and it was all Harry could do to not press forcefully against Snape.

Snape had no problem following his steps, which to Harry meant that he was improving. "Bring us back," Snape whispered.

Then quite suddenly, he realised how tightly he was holding onto Snape's hand and he didn't want to comprehend why.

Actually, for the duration of dance, he didn't want to ruminate on anything, because then he remembered how hot and wet with sweat his fingers felt and how weirdly his stomach ached. But by the end of the dance, which was very slow and calming, Harry found his forehead slumped and pressed against Snape's back. Harry withdrew his hands then looked up as Snape turned to face him. By the professor's countenance, he knew that the man wanted to ask him something. "Professor?"

"What was that about?"

"I just felt like dancing with you," Harry tried to say as nonchalantly as he could. Although after the words had slipped, he wish he could have censored his statement. "Shit," Harry fought the urge to yank his hair and slam his forehead against a desk. Where had his sense escaped to?! He vented his uneasiness by adjusting his collar and pulled down his tie.

"With… me…." The man looked at him expectantly and Harry just wanted to flee before he tried something even more foolish and worthy of the nickname 'idiot'. However, the professor did not dismiss him.

The next minute could have lasted five times longer than it really was. Then multiply that by Snape's lingering proximity, and Harry was there long enough to ask, "Who was that bloke anyways?"

The question was out of line and Snape stepped back from Harry, but his eyes held onto the younger blokes and he did not run away. Harry should have seized, but he wanted to know. He had to know. So he pressed on despite the fact that he had to right to the information he sought. "Is he someone important to you?"

Gods, Harry didn't want to think that the man was Ginny's equivalent to Snape. That would've meant that they engaged in all sorts of randy activities. Did Snape ever invite him into the castle? Have they ever role played in the classrooms? Done things on the desks with quills and lashes? Then Harry wandered if they ever ventured into Snape's private chambers. Did the man ever undress Snape? Was he allowed to touch him everywhere… even his neck? It slipped before Harry could think better, "Do you let him kiss your neck?" Then Harry covered his mouth with his hand. How could he have been so stupid?! You should never ask a teacher such ridiculous questions!

"Leave," Snape ordered.

Harry stepped away from Snape and hurried towards the door. So many thoughts were on the brink of slipping through his lips and he didn't want to ask Snape anything that could further jeopardize their agreement. He ran.

Harry Potter Harry Potter Harry Potter

As the students scurried around the Great Hall to pick their first partners for the quarter's evaluation test, Ginny found Harry despite the madness. She smiled and Harry bowed. She giggled then curtsied. "Where did you learn this?" she asked when Harry took her into his arms.

"I finally convinced someone to be my tutor."

"Oh? Who?"

"I cannot tell you. But I will later. Promise," he spun Ginny lightly then surprised her by kissing her lips softly. When the heat registered with him, something inside of him burst and he pressed against her harder, gently licking her lips and nipping her skin. She then pulled away. "Not here, silly."

Her voice was light and soft, but it did not have the same effect it did on him before.

"I am going to start the evaluation now. Remember to not mind me. I am merely tracking your levels to see how you've advanced and if the class does well as a whole, I have a special treat in mind." McGonagall was beaming for some reason as she started the large, magically amplified record player.

Harry moved swiftly and remembering what Snape had taught him, took Ginny into his arms and moved forwards, tying to shift his weight with ease and move his hips. He wasn't doing a bad job several minutes into the class. He managed to keep up with the tempo, keep a steady pace, and spin Ginny at just the right moments. "Wow, Harry. You're doing so much better. You have to tell me who's teaching you!"

Harry shook his head then noticed McGonagall standing by, watching him. She clapped three times and nodded. "Bravo, Mr. Potter. You're doing brilliant!" She then moved onto the next couple.

"C'mon, Harry! Really, who finally found your right foot?"

Harry spun her around and around. "I cannot tell you. Besides, I might not get another lesson. I did something stupid on Sunday."

"Please tell me it didn't cost us point."

Harry looked at her. "How do you know it's a teacher?"

"Well, it can't be a student otherwise everyone would be talking about it." She smiled.

"I suppose…."

"So it really just boils down to the teachers that dance and the teachers that don't. And so I'm guessing that if it's not McGonagall, it has to be either Slughorn, Pomfrey, Pince, or Sinstra."

Harry laughed. Snape wasn't on the list.

By the end of class, McGonagall called over her students as she passed out their marks. "Next time please be prepared for new material and if you have not purchased dance shoes, I suggest you invest in them before Wednesday. We are going to start the tango."

Large eyes stared at McGonagall from all around. There was so way! "So soon?" asked Harry softly. Now he had to seek Snape out and make amends.

Calling Slughorn forth, McGonagall then set about starting music that was appropriate for the tango. "If anything, please note your placement, for if you aren't careful, you may find yourself in an intimate space with your partner."

Slughorn assumed his position in front of McGonagall. "Since its origin, there are now many different version of the dance. We will be focusing on the Argentine Tango. This dance can vary from an arm's length distance to being very close and intimate. The tango is also not a step by step dance, but can require a number of different moves before coming to a close. Such as _gancho, barrida, ochos, golpecitos, _and _cunitas_. These and many more moves will become familiar to you before our winter dance party."

McGonagall did something where her hips move crazily and her feet traced an eight while she stayed in one spot. It was elegant and stylish and making Harry feel very nervous about leading.

"Tango music is expressive and inspiring. Though the basics are easy, much like a slow walk, you are responsible for developing your own style." McGonagall snapped and music began to play. It was much different than the Salsa and the Rumba. "As you listen, you should already be able to identify the one-two-three-four rhythm pattern. There is an emphasis on the first and third count. We will start you off with a basic walk."

First facing their partners, the students, then turned while holding onto each other to walk as McGonagall was demonstrating with Slughorn. "This dance can be very slowly paced, but as you learn new techniques, you will become thankful that its tempo isn't very fast."

Several more demonstrations were made, including the girl walking backwards, while the man guided her, and this crossing of the legs and tapping with the toes, which made this dance more like an art performance than anything else. It was beautiful when done right, but awkward at first. Ginny and Harry weren't sure if they could get so close to someone else without feeling invaded upon. When the class was over, McGonagall said her final words to her students. "Remember, _el tango no está en los pies. Está en el corazón._ Tango is not in the feet. It is in the heart. Good evening."

Severus Snape Severus Snape Severus Snape

Everyone was in such close proximities. Yet, no one seemed to be voicing objections. Harry knew that some students secretly have been waiting for this, so they could dance with that someone special. However, Harry still had his dance classes with Snape and such a dance would require them to be very, very close to each other. If Harry thought salsa was invasive at times, he shuddered to think how intimate he had yet to be with Snape.

Shaking his head, Harry brought his legs up to his chest. His crimson blanket warmed his body now that the weather was getting progressively colder. He looked over at Ron, who was sleeping with half his chest exposed, then at their new dorm mates, who were curled up beneath the blankets. Then his attention was averted when there was a tapping at his window. He leaned over his bed and saw a black owl flapping just outside. He opened the window quickly and the bird dropped off a note before taking flight. It didn't even bother to stay to see if Harry had treats, which Harry had handy since he expected Snape to send more word by owls.

_Two Left Feet_

It read. This really was becoming Snape's nickname for Harry.

_Please come to my classroom for further instructions._

It was rare for Snape to call Harry right after his dance class and this late at night, but maybe he wanted to be informed if they had indeed finished with the salsa and the rumba and if Harry was tested, how did he do. Slipping into more appropriate attire, Harry then headed downstairs into the common room. Ginny and Hermione were up, each spread out on separate tables, studying diligently. Harry smiled in Hermione's direction then pressed a kiss to Ginny's cheek before heading out the common room. He didn't see the curious glances the two girls passed between each other.

Because Harry had not taken care to see if someone was following him, Harry didn't notice that he was not alone. So when a hand touched his shoulder, he nearly jumped out of his socks. "Ginny!" He breathed a sigh of relief. "What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to know where you were going. You're always going out for walks and don't return until long after hours."

"I'm just strolling to clear my mind. You can't study if you're all stressed out."

"Then, can I join you?"

"What?" Harry's eyebrow twitched.

"If you're just strolling like you said you are, then you shouldn't mind my company. Besides, I need to clear my head a bit too."

"No!"

"Excuse me?"

"I mean, please, Ginny."

"I want to join you. What's the matter with that?" She looked upset and Harry really didn't want to have to deal with a girl crying.

Sensing that he had finally given up, Ginny took his hand. "We can walk together," she then leaned into him, "and maybe take that kiss further…"

And that's how Harry went from innocently walking to Snape's classroom to being pressed up against the walls, kissing Ginny and pretending not to be pretending that she wasn't Ginny and that she was a tall, dark, and snarky son of a devil. He kissed her softly, trying not to let this lead anywhere, but she kept trying to push him. "Gin, we can't."

"Harry…," she breathed and pressed on.

Her breathed smelled of the sweetest apples. Her hair smelled of peaches and pears. And her skin was wild. He was losing himself and forgetting where he was. In fact, things were progressing so quickly, that he forgot to look at his map. He concentrated all his senses on Ginny, that he did not sense another presence, that he did not hear approaching feet, that he did not open his eyes until a bright light was shining in his direction.

"Mr. Potter and Ms. Weasley. Forty points from Gryffindor, and detention." Harry squinted and raised his hand until his eyes adjusted. He knew who had found them and he whispered a string of curses before shaking off Ginny. "Professor!" He pushed Ginny away, more roughly than he wanted to believe, but he didn't care. His dance partner was clearly upset with him.

"Professor Snape!" he hurried down the hall in pursuit of the man, not knowing what he would say once he caught up to him.

At last, Snape stopped and looked over his shoulder at Harry; his eyes narrowing in annoyance.

"I'm so sorry, professor!"

"You have crossed me, Potter. Return to your dorm." He turned to move away, but Harry persisted relentlessly. He felt such humiliation at being caught by Snape. Merlin, he wandered what Snape felt like being caught by Harry the other day.

"I couldn't shake off Ginny!" he tried to explain. "She kept on insisting and I told her that I wanted to go alone, but she wanted to know where I was going and all this stuff and I didn't want to take her to class with me!"

"Why did you not inform Ms. Weasley that you had a scheduled private dance class with me?"

"Because it's none of her business! What I choose to do with my free time doesn't concern her!"

Snape stopped again and crossed his arms. "Or perhaps you are ashamed that you must yield to receiving private lessons from a Death Eater? Get out of my sight, ungrateful brat."

Harry's jaw unhinged and his legs froze. Where in the world did that come from?! Rage boiled within his gut. This was all Ginny's fault! If she would have just pissed off then this whole quarrel could have been avoided and he would be dancing with Snape. Harry stopped chasing after Snape to return to his dorms. He didn't want to have anything to do with anyone at the moment. He just wanted to sleep and hope that tomorrow he would be receiving a note from his dance tutor.

After crawling through the portrait, Harry looked around the room and to his surprise, found no one. Not even Hermione. _Wow…_Harry thought to himself. She was usually up and waiting for his return when she knew he was out. He must've hurt Ginny badly. "Whatever," he thought coldly as he headed up to his dorm. All he wanted to do was sleep and not think at all.

Harry Potter Harry Potter Harry Potter

"I don't know what you said to my sister, but she won't even talk to me about it," Ron shrugged. "Does it bother you?"

They were sitting on a stone bench in full view of the courtyard, where the younger students were running around playfully and the older ones studying. Watching them relaxed Harry. "Not really. I just kind of think having a girlfriend at the moment isn't in my best interest."

Ron's eyebrows hitched. "Blimey, Harry. This is my sister. I don't want to see her hurt so be firm with her if that's what you want."

"I will, but not yet. Some things have changed, Ron. I feel like a new person."

"Just don't be an arse."

"So what? I bet there are loads of blokes just waiting for a chance with Ginny."

Ron gave Harry a funny look. "Don't say that to me. She's my sister!"

Harry burst out laughing.

"Anyways, do you want to go swimming? Our dorm mates think it's a brilliant idea of take a dip into the lake at this time of year."

Harry leaned over his seat at Ron. "Are they mad?! The water's got to be freezing!"

"Nope. They are sane. Well, do you want to go or not? I won't go alone."

Harry shrugged. "Don't suppose we'll need swimwear."

"Blimey, Harry. Swimming stark naked it the best way to go."

"You're joking, right?"

"Cause I would joke like that. Let's go!" Ron pulled Harry from the bench and dragged him from the castle towards the lake.

Before they reached the clutter of trees surrounding the area, they saw several seventh years, the ones in their dorms and more, sneaking around. "That's them," Ron pointed. "There!"

They hurried past the trees until they had caught up with the others. "There you are, Ron. And I see you brought Potter." A tall bloke with dirty blonde hair with a light mustache and hazel eyes greeted them. "I'm Percy. Percy Brown." Percy extended a hand which Harry received.

Harry didn't need to introduce himself. All the blokes knew who he was.

"This here is Henry, Michael, Luc, and over there are the fifth years. Don't mind them too much. They're alright."

Harry nodded as Percy turned to the other boys and urged them towards the water. "Remember, one of you need to keep watch incase the bat decided to bathe. He's going to need the whole bloody lake."

A fifth year was butted out and frowned as he was chosen to be watchdog.

Once they reached the smooth pebbles by the shore, light waves tumbled over and shook them gently. The water was clean and as clear as it always was. But as the eye traveled further along the water's surface, dark green and brown seaweed and dead plants swayed just below, undisturbed.

Percy jumped around on one leg as he undid his shoes and removed his socks. He then pulled his shirt over and did away with his belt and pants before standing nude before an audience of blokes. "Alright fairies! Let's get in!"

The boys followed after him, running on the pebbles just several feet out before the water rose to their hips. They shivered and wrapped their around themselves, until a few fifth years began shooting _**aguamenti**_ spells at them. After that, it was an all out splash fest. Bodies tumbled, and water splashed and water went everywhere and laughers could barely be heard among all the other activities. Harry smiled as he stood with all his clothes still on at the shore. Beside him, Ron laughed and shook his head. "It's bloody freezing out there!"

"Looks fun though."

"Well, let's do it then." Ron said more to himself than Harry, "Right." He nodded then proceeded to remove his own shoes and clothes. After looking down at Ron for a few seconds, Harry decided to follow and went about stripping his clothes off in a frenzy.

"Fuck, it's cold!"

Ron's teeth were chattering and gooseflesh began popping up all over his exposed skin.

It was at that moment that Harry's eyes wondered downwards. It wasn't that he was interested in his best mate's groin, it was more like he just wanted to compare. However, one his eyes fell onto the extended, pinkishskin, Harry grimaced. It was long and thin with red pubes bundled around it. It was like a giraffe's head and neck with a lion's mane. Harry rolled his eyes away. He shouldn't have looked. Now he's seen more of Ron than he's ever wanted to.

"Charge!!!" screamed Ron as he ran towards the splashing and the screaming and the laughing mess; his penis flapping from side to side like a tail on the wrong side of the body.

Harry was the only one left standing. Well, today he has seen many male genitalia and nothing seemed to affect him. Perhaps it was just being in closed environments that seemed to rouse him.

Taking off the last of his clothing, Harry then decided to use the spells he has been learning in Defense class. Whispering a spell, Harry then rested his wand over the water and used both of his hands to bring it up into a larger wave. The water roar slightly before heading towards the mass of boys, who ended up screaming and diving just before the medium sized wave crashed over them. Mist rose and the water's surface bubble slightly. Harry laughed then wondered if there was a way to manipulate the water into looking like an animal. Then a few heads rose up and Percy shouted, "Potter! You are going down!!"

A/N: I am sure you have already heard this from other authors, but the spring semester is rolling in and I find that it is almost impossible to update frequently when I only have time to write in between classes. I will do my best. Remember, reviews and encouragement help!

Any questions, comments, concerns, or looking to be a beta? Submit a review.

Teasers:

"The Tango is danced in a closed position."

"Why is it okay for _that _man to be here?"

"You might want to close your eyes for this part, Mr. Potter."


	6. Blood and Potions

_Two Left Feet_

Edited by Danyealle

Posted on January 21, 2010

Chapter 6

"Blood and Potions"

The nigh was chiller than usual but the Great Hall was warm and illuminated by a tight cluster of floating candles. Below, the large phonograph was pouring music; bringing the hall and the students to life. By observation, McGonagall was the most excited person in present. By far. She clasped her hands together and beckoned them around. They stood with their partners, facing the professor as she snatched a weary student from the crowd. It was Percy. He rolled his eyes as he allowed himself to be guided to the center. "Firstly the stance…. Keep your upper body straight and tall, knees slightly bent, and weight on the heels. Do not allow your knees to straighten at the end of each pattern. If your stance is properly maintained, then you should feel like you are trying to sneak up on someone without being seen." McGonagall showed the class the proper stance and Harry attempted it with Hermione at his side. Ron was right beside them with Luna and had the need to comment, "I feel my arse muscles tightening already."

"This particular tango pattern is based on a count of eight. Some are slower, others quicker. A slow count takes two beats and a quick is one beat of music."

Ron leaned over and whispered not so quietly to Hermione, "I'll show you a quick beat."

Ginny proceeded to elbow Ron.

"The basic count of Tango is slow one two, slow three four, quick five, quick six, slow seven eight. However, as the dance patterns advance and become more difficult, the timing of the patterns will vary. We'll start with the Tango walk. For the men's part, step forward with left and count one two. Then step forward with right and count three four. Step forward with left and count five. Then step side with the right and count six. Close left foot to right foot without distributing weight on the left foot. There should be pressure into the floor with the inside of the left foot and count seven eight. Ladies, you'll mirror the men's movements."

McGonagall continued her demonstration and the class observed and followed. "The Tango is danced in a closed position. The man should place his right hand with some pressure against the middle of the woman's lower back. Not any lower," McGonagall eyed the males suspiciously and settled her eyes a moment longer on Ron. "The lady's left hand will be flat with the fingers straight. She will place her left hand around the man's right shoulder putting pressure with the thumbs of her left hand against the lower part of his shoulder." She had to correct several hands before continuing on. "The palm of the man's left hand and the palm of the woman's right hand will connect with slight pressure towards each other and be held at approximately at eye level. Not dragging. The woman will stand slightly to the man's right side and should remain there throughout the dance."

Harry watched and practised with Hermione, thrilled that in a short while, he would be in intimate proximities with Snape. Then his eyes widened. Hermione's brow arched. "Is something wrong?"

His mind was at it again! Running away with ludicrous thoughts and hoping for that which he really didn't want… right? He thought back to the lake splash-fest and recalled all those naked young bodies next to him, around him, against him, crushing him, rubbing against him, and he felt nothing. Clearly he had no desire for the male body. So why did he have this senseless need for connecting with Snape? "Stupid, stupid, stupid."

"Excuse me?" Hermione and he had stopped moving. Her hand came to rest on his cheek. "Harry, what's the matter?"

"My head hurts," he said as he slapped his palm against his head.

Hermione huffed. "You've dealt with worse. What's really wrong? You've been acting so strangely."

"It's nothing. Just stress. All school related, I promise."

Class was soon over but a few students lingered to practise a bit more. Harry swung his bag over his shoulder and was about to head out when the doors open then in stepped Snape. He moved towards McGonagall without sparing anyone else a glance. McGonagall smiled then hurried over to him. They were whispering and Harry, just like the other students, was staring with dread. Then McGonagall turned towards her students and cleared her throat. "I have an announcement… Professor Snape has agreed to be my dance assistant temporarily."

Very few students applauded, other's had eyes glossed with interest. Harry felt like he swallowed Hagrid. He felt heavy and fuzzy inside. He was quite befuddled by how he felt about Snape's involvement since Slughorn could no longer help, but, as he looked at the wizard, he sensed this was Snape's way of backhanding him.

Harry Potter Harry Potter Harry Potter

The following night, Harry succumbed to the beast dwelling alongside his conscience. As he felt himself inwardly exploding with aggravation that he had no way of channeling by a healthy, appropriate mean, he fled the Gryffindor tower to meander among the many cold and lonely stone halls. Hopefully the hovering fog of frosty air would ameliorate his bitter temper and hot head. Never before could he remember being as frustrated as often as he has been. Besides being frustrated, when it came to Snape, Harry was nettled and emotionally bound. As a student, there was little he could do release his energies without threatening Snape's position. He would be a fool to try anything when he was so close to graduation.

However, that didn't mean he would not try.

For Harry was a hot head.

And his patience was as great as a lion in heat.

Not really caring whether or not he had collected himself, Harry marched towards Snape classroom, uncertain of what he would say, what he would do, but knowing that whatever happened, he needed to maintain some control. At the door he banged against it three times. Then stopped and thought about his behaviour. Already he was letting his emotions get the better of him. _Have some control. Control. Control._ He spoke, "Professor?"

A bitter voice answered, "Go away, Potter." Harry was amazed with himself. He didn't even consider the chance Snape might have not been in the classroom.

Anger boiled against his chest. Again, he was getting carried away, but didn't really care. He flattened his palm against the door and shoved it open. He was ready to being his diatribe when two strangers dressed in white turned to look at him, clearly stunned at his forceful and aggressive intrusion. Then as Harry looked at the woman, he realised she was a Healer, and not just any Healer. She was Selene Quinn, the renowned Healer who just won an award for her practises in poisons and cures. And on Snape's left was the same man Harry saw in the alley just the other week. Harry stared at them in the same astonishment as them. Only Snape seemed indifferent. "You allow students to intrude upon you so rudely, Severus?" asked the Healer.

"Potter thinks he is beyond rules. I have done all I could to correct this," Snape answered nonchalantly. He was leaning back against his chair with his neck wound and four hearty inches of his chest exposed.

"Mr. Potter, it is an honour to meet you, but there are procedures and policies and I cannot allow you to stay here. Please leave as I must attend to my patient privately."

Harry's finger was then pointing at the other taller man, who was standing with his back to Harry but his head slightly turned as if listening. He wanted to ask, 'What about him? Why is it alright for him to stay?' but all that came out was a, "You! You're that bloke!"

Snape groaned. "Get out, Potter." He was not about to display his impatience before his Healer.

Quite astonished, the Healer placed her hand against her chest. "That is none of your business. Please leave at once or we will remove you by force." She turned to Snape, "They did not jest when they insisted that Harry Potter is a persistent young man."

"Why is it okay for _that _man to be here?" Harry asked when he found his voice again. Clearly something was nettling his nerves.

The Healer was about to summon McGonagall when Snape said, "Just tell him or he will never let it be."

"If I must. He is Alexander Lixandroiu, my assistant in poisons and blood transfusions. Now will you leave?"

The response was in the least expected; Harry's accusing finger dropped slightly. So that meant the man wasn't a partner showing his presence in support of his significant other. "So… he helps to flush the body of injected toxins?" Harry's curiosity was never satisfied, it could only be reinforced.

The Healer folded her arms over her chest. "Mr. Potter, do you know of the healing properties in vampire blood?"

She said it so casually, but Harry had never heard of such a thing! _A vampire?!_ If Harry thought that there were no more surprises after this…. For nothing could further shock him. He has only met one other vampire in his entire life, that's how rare they were. And as Harry's eyes fell onto the tall man's creamy white skin and white hair, he wondered how he could have missed it. The vampire smiled and exposed four long and pointed fangs. "Evening, Mr. Potter."

"Healer Lixandroiu must weekly draw blood from your professor for tests then give him just enough blood and potions to help prevent Professor Snape from further epileptic seizures and convulsions which are due to the professor's previous massive intake of venom."

"But that...," that didn't explain why Snape was with him that afternoon and why they were snogging! Unless Harry had jumped to conclusions, but then why did Snape and him have that talk the other day? Were they dating then? Or using each other? Harry had to know, but had no idea about getting an answer from either the proud vampire or the stubborn wizard.

"If that is all, Mr. Potter, will you kindly leave?"

Harry's eyes found Snape's, which were holding his steadily, studying. In a moment, Harry felt like he had unconsciously reached him and something transpired. "He won't leave. You can tell him everything about the procedures but he has business with me and will not leave until he has said all he needs to. Let him stay."

No further instruction was needed. Harry walked forward and seated himself where he would have a decent view of Snape's neck and the whole procedure. For the next half hour, he remained quiet, much to everyone's pleasure and watched as Healer Selene injected a multitude of liquids then massaged the neck with oils and other lotions. That explained the many puncture wounds he saw before. One bottle, when uncorked, had a strong scent of dirty and earth and Harry's nose couldn't seem to get enough air. His hands were suddenly hovering above his lap and his toes were curling. He leaned closer then inhaled. It was effective in the area of clearing his mind of all useless and useful thoughts. He wished he could have snagged the small vial. But then he knew he would do something stupid with it. Like keeping it under his pillow, so before he went to sleep, he could dab the liquid onto his wrist, hold it close to his nose, and fool himself into thinking that Snape was next to him. "Stupid," Harry whispered. He doubted that even infatuated teenage girls did that.

He opened his eyes then looked at Snape's countenance. The folds of his face would gather tightly in a cringe and then relax. His eyes remained shut. His nails would gradually claw into and then scrape the leather of his chair as he made fists. His legs would jerk and his feet would press against the other. And then, a finger twitched.

By the end of the half hour, Healer Selene looked at her assistant then at Snape. "It's time for the blood. Would you prefer that Mr. Potter leave?"

"Let him stay." The professor answer much too quickly, but then again, he seemed exhausted. Harry guessed that he just wanted the procedure to be over.

"Are you sure?" the Healer seemed concerned and very uneasy.

"He's been exposed to worse," Snape ensured before reaching out and touching Alexander's elbow.

The vampire, who was standing by jotting down notes, finally set down his clipboard. He withdrew a vial from his pocket that smelled much like rubbing alcohol and wiped it over Snape's neck, Snape's lips, and his lips. Harry's lower lips slightly dropped as he braced himself against his seat. He wished to believe that Snape would have to ingest liquids taken from a vial or a cup, but from the vampire? "The fresher, the better," he looked to the healer who was ignoring him and instead filling out a form. When Harry's eyes returned to the terribly real scene before him, the vampire was already lean over and in less than two breathes his lips fastened against Snape's wound and drew blood. He drank for only a second before licking the wound and sealing it.

Air rushed down Harry's throat through his open mouth, filling his lungs and expanding his chest. Harry's mouth felt like a desert. He licked his own lips. His mind had gone blank. His chest hurt.

"Here's the test tube," the Healer said as she passed a long, thin tube to the vampire. He held it between his lips and poured the blood it. Selene marked it before setting it in her bag.

Then the vampire touched Snape's chin and Snape reached behind his head. Alexander then said softly, "You might want to close your eyes for this part, Mr. Potter."

Earlier that night, Harry was already feeling frustrated with this poor change of heart. At that moment, he felt like fire was trying to split open his chest. Harry was about ready to spring from his seat and pounce the vampire.

Then the vampire's sharp fang ripped his own lip just as he lowered himself to Snape. Before their lips meet, Alexander flickered a glance towards his young audience. Harry's fist had long since turned a pale flesh and his knuckles white. Snape sucked on Alexander's lower lip as a thin trail of blood escaped their kiss.

Just as quickly as it begun, it ended and Alexander pulled back both their lips moist with blood and heat. Harry swallowed again and then realised that he had been standing. He didn't care when that had happened, only when Alexander was going to remove his undead arse out of the school. "We will send you the result shortly Severus." Said Healer Selene. She hugged him then put everything away.

The vampire pressed a kiss to Snape's forehead before he escorted his partner to the door. "Evening, Mr. Potter," he said with a smug smirk before he was off.

When the doors closed behind him, Harry finally approached Snape. The professor was breathing softly and his eyes were still closed. Harry wanted to assume that the wizard had let down his defenses but it had to be a result of the drugs and the… kiss. _No! That's ridiculous! He's practically forty! A kiss shouldn't take such a toll on someone so old. He isn't a teenager anymore._

"You didn't vomit this time."

Harry huffed. "You caught be off guard last time. And I ate something distasteful."

"He is not my partner," Snape whispered yanked. His eyes were now open and looking… just looking at Harry. What was he trying to insinuate? Some sort of sick reassurance? "Just a vampire doing his job. Though he can be affectionate, you must never fall for a vampire. They'll entice you into spending an eternity with them before letting you grow old with them. They can love like we do, but they require a delay that you will ultimately regret. And it is not until you have grown bored of your long years that you realise that death is more welcoming."

"He isn't trying to make you into a vampire, is he?"

Snape chuckled, "No."

Relief was like warm water against his tight skin. Harry leaned closer and placed a hand on Snape's shoulder. He reached for the soft tissue the Healer had left and pressed it against Snape's lips. The wizard closed his eyes and allowed Harry to wipe it of the blood and in their little moment, to touch his lips with the lightest touch from his fingers. "Does… does it hurt when he bites your neck?" Harry's voice was coarse.

Snape smirked. "I'd rather be stung by a bee." His lips could barely be felt moving against Harry's curious fingers.

"What does it feel like?" Harry's ring finger was tentatively getting acquainted with the outline, the slight curve, and the moistness of Snape's bottom lip.

"A wickedly sharp fork." His breath further moistened Harry's fingers. Harry could feel his adrenal glands releasing all kinds of nonsense into his bloodstream.

"That can't be too pleasant."

"No…."

Harry proceeded to remove the blood from Snape's neck. He placed on hand on the other side of Snape neck before wiping. The blood rubbed off easily as it was fresh. Then Snape rolled his head towards Harry. His eyes were a fathomless black, his lips a pale peach and Harry knew just what he wanted to do with them.

Then a fiercely strong grip restrained him and Snape sat up. "I have yet to discuss your detention with you. I have arranged for Ms. Weasley to work with Professor Slughorn tonight. You will serve it with Professor Hagrid tomorrow night."

Harry shook his head then replayed Snape's words in his thoughts. How did they get from an almost kiss to talking about his detention? He frowned. "Yes sir." It was an absolute mood killer and Harry had no taste for it. But diving in for a kiss that instant might have earned him something worse than a detention.

"So… why have you decided to help Professor McGonagall?"

"To keep a closer eye on you and understand why you are not progressing as everyone else is. Perhaps I can help you better there. Also, my time is limited. Even more so than before and I cannot continue giving you lessons."

"But if you don't help with dance class then you'll have time." How wrong was it to convert something selfishly?

"No. I'll just fill those empty slots with detentions and other duties I am obligated to perform. Giving you special lessons is no longer high on my priority list as it was before. However, I manage to escape tedious detentions when I offer my assistance to the Headmistress. You will be guaranteed my help three times a week now. Perhaps even four if I manage a bit of leisure time."

The whole thing sounded like a scandal and it frustrated Harry. Why did the wizard always have to complicate matters? Random meetings and last minute scheduling was working fine for Harry. "I guess it'll work out fine then." He felt like kicking himself. Any classes were better than none. But what did Harry care anyways? Nothing was supposed to happen. Everything was purely academic and not for exploitations in _that_ subject. Harry released a full lung of air slowly. Private dance classes would only hurt him more. This had to be better. Yes, definitely better. His eyes followed Snape's long quill to his eyes. He wasn't aware that he was being so inattentive until Snape raised an inquiring brow. "Yeah, it'll be fine - brilliant."

"Then I will see you at the next meeting."

Severus Snape Severus Snape Severus Snape

Harry withdrew the bloody tissue from his pocket for the fifth time that night. He held it up and examined the blood with the pad of his thumb, but searched for nothing in particular. It had merely become a token of memory since Harry remembered that he still had it in his hand after he left Snape's classroom. He wasn't sure why, but every time he recalled the intimacy, he felt his heart swoon. He should not desire anything from Snape. To want something so incredibly much from Snape was to jeopardize his education and further tarnish his professor's reputation if it slipped. Snape could never have him. He could never have Snape. Neither could make the first move while Harry was still studying under his tutelage.

He kicked back his sheets and groaned louder than he should've making Ron groan back in his sleep, his face twisting into a frown_. I am not even sure how he feels about me_. That thought nettled Harry's mind and filled him with discontentment. And though Snape had assured him that no tender feelings were blossoming between him and the vampire, Harry wanted to be prepared lest Vampire Alexander had an agenda of his own. He knew so little about vampires and their world. The only other vampire that he has ever known was the last Minister of Magic, and Harry didn't gather a pleasant opinion of him. He buried his face further into the pillow and bit on the fluff. "Why...."

Hours passed, the clock ticked, and still sleep did not come to him. The night was cold, but the bed was warm. And there were subtle voices leaking from beneath the door. Harry sat up and made his way out. Perhaps some late night chatting would help him rest better.

He opened the door and went down the hall towards the staircase. As he approached the lit area, he registered it as Ginny's voice. At least he could talk to her about nonsense that would gradually put him in a pleasant sleep.

As he looked over the wooden railing, he saw Ginny on the couch, arms wrapped around her legs as she read aloud from a large book to her only company, Crookshanks. The sleepy cat was rolled on his side with the tip of his tail curling upwards every so often. Harry went downstairs and Ginny looked up. Her eyes widened and she tightened her grip on her legs as Harry approached. "Hey Gin, what are you doing up so late?"

"Studying," she mumbled against her knee.

"But the exam isn't for another week." He closed the book for her after marking it and then shoved the cat to the side, despite Crookshank's protesting meows. "What's wrong?"

"I'm not tired. You?"

"Couldn't sleep. Are you alright? I know we haven't talked much in the last week, but I've been busy and such."

"We don't even kiss anymore."

_Wow_. Harry thought. He actually could not recall the last time he had her tongue down his throat. It was brilliant! "That's not important."

Ginny turned to look at him incredulously. Her eyes were full and her lips looked like they might just start to curl downwards and then that meant that…

"What I mean is that right now our education is what is most important. But after school, everything will be okay. Then we can get more serious and you know…"

She nodded, though not entirely convinced. "I know. It's just that before school, you were so affectionate and I just miss that, you know? All the holding and the touching… the kissing and the attention. I miss it. I really, really miss it."

And there her lips went… they curled down and then they parted slightly as small droplets formed around her long lashes. Harry was never good with handling girls in their emotional moments. He never really liked it when they were emotional. He didn't understand. It wasn't like he said they needed to break up. He wasn't sure yet. What if he got over this his infatuation with Snape and found that he indeed preferred Ginny's breasts and curves to Snape's broad shoulders, slim waist and… toned arms… Harry's skin shivered. "It'll be okay, Gin. Don't cry. Shhh, don't cry."

He touched her cheeks and she leaned into him. He though it would be best to change the topic of discussion. However, the more he thought, the more his mind lingered on Snape… and then he popped the question. "What do you think about Snape helping out the class?"

She laughed a little, "I think it will be fun. He's so knowledgeable about everything he does. He will make the class interesting. I wonder if he'll dance with me."

The clock's ticking became softer and Harry's mind went into a frenzy of unproductive thoughts. To add to his distress, his heart began burning. _Must've been those fried potatoes I had for dinner._ "You think so?" Every muscle in his being was clenching. What was he trying to hold onto? A thought? A dream? A hope? The impossible?

"I bet he dances better than everyone else."

_He does…_ It was almost voiced. "I am sure he does."

"I'm sure he will dance with me at some point. There are only so many girls."

"I don't want to share," his eyes were on Ginny, but his consciousness was slipping. He was growing tired. Too many emotions that Snape had no right inflicting upon him. This had to stop.

A/N: Hello there, just a note, don't be afraid to tell me what you think about this story. If it makes you feel like bubbles are popping like popcorn in the microwave, well, I'm sure you are not the only one. If it makes you feel like humanity has way too much time on their hands to write this mush... well, I'm not the only one that writes mush. But let me know. Great comments only keep me going. If you want quicker updates and I guess longer chapters, make it known. Make me happy and I will make you happier.

Just a reminder, if you want to be added to an alert email list, let me know and leave your email. Please.

And I am sorry but I don't have teasers for the next chapter.


	7. Roxanne

_Two Left Feet_

Edited by the fastest beta in the world!

Danyealle

Posted on February 15

Chapter 7

"Roxanne"

Casually, Percy reached across and patted Harry on the shoulder before swinging around and reeling Ron in. "Snow feels good, eh?!" He chuckled as he dragged his feet through the first bit of snow. "I love the snow!"

Ron's eye brows arched, "You're mental. It's bloody cold!"

"But it's so much fun!" He grabbed a handful of snow then hurled it at another friend of theirs. The boy, who didn't even see it coming, found himself soon falling over into a small lump of new, white snow. "Owned!" exclaimed Percy as he ran to seek shelter behind a tree.

The victim grabbed snow at random and hurled it as hard as he could. Much to his disappointment, it crumbled after a few feet and fell to the ground. "I'll get you for that, Percy!"

"When I recall all the games we used to play, I miss the snow too. We didn't really get to enjoy the winter last year."

"No…." He did not want to reminisce. There was nothing pleasant about that journey. Except the strengthening of his friendship. "Heads up!"

Ron turned just as snow smacked his forehead. It crumbled slowly and Ron grabbed his face. "That's fucking cold!" He reached for some snow but not fast enough to stake his revenge before three more came his way.

Harry dove to get out of the line of fire just as two more came his way. He laughed as Ron got pelted in the face with snow, bits of dirt, and small sticks. "Ahh!" Cried Ron as he withdrew his wand to hurl ice in every direction.

Harry felt snowballs collide with his back. Percy, however, was smacked several times on his chest. Harry then got up to run to duck behind the fallen log where others had sought refuse from Ron's raging balls. He tripped just as he reached the log, falling face first into the snow. He laughed, however. He didn't remember the last time he had so much fun in the snow. And it was just the blokes. "Alright, on the count of three, we all hurl snowballs at him, got it? One… two…."

Harry got his snowballs ready just as Ron began to cool down. "Three!"

Harry Potter Harry Potter Harry Potter

"The first snow of the season," Slughorn commented. "Isn't it beautiful? Oh how I wish I were younger. I had a very good arm back in the days and could hit anyone from several feet away. I daresay everyone wanted me on their snowball war team."

Snape rolled his eyes. His voices of reason forebode him from remaining in sight as soon as Slughorn walked into the Hog's Head. He should have hidden, or claimed to have been needed elsewhere. Now he was doomed to Slughorn's company as they treaded across the long, snow cover roads back to Hogwarts. The roads today seemed all the longer. He thought Slughorn's "back in the day" stories would never cease. That was, until a snowball came flying from the forest. Along with it came several Gryffindor boys, all screaming hysterically, tripping over each other, and running as fast as they could despite the snow. Slughorn stared with the most amused expression in his eyes Snape had seen all afternoon. "Ah, youth," he sighed longingly.

"Run, run, run!" The youngest Weasley male sprung from the woods and leaped a few feet in order to run away from whatever madness was chasing them, and keep both him and Professor Slughorn from continuing on their way.

Then suddenly, a few more snowballs came flying from the bushes. They smacked into the road just inches from his ice covered boots. He looked down then looked back up at the forest just as Harry bolted out, wand raised high, and snowballs circling him like ammunition. At least they were applying the elemental manipulation techniques he had taught them.

When Harry saw both him and Slughorn, he stopped just before leaping over another log and grinned. "Afternoon, professors."

"Good afternoon, Harry! I see you've become quite the menace. We won't keep you from you fun." Slughorn laughed then reached out for one of the snowballs. "But you'll have to drop in one afternoon for tea. I must tell you about my old snowball days." He grabbed one of the hovering balls circulating Harry then turned to admire the wide, open fields just perfect for snowball warfare. "They were astounding, really."

As soon as Slughorn began his story, Snape reached for Harry's arm. Harry was about to ask what he was doing when he felt pressure all around him and then he cried as he felt like he was being squeezed through an air tight tube. Then everything came back into focus. They were just outside of Hogwarts' gates. Harry turned to Snape, not sure if he should thank the man or kiss him for his attempted rescue act. "That bloody fool never shuts up." Said Snape as he withdrew his wand and touched the gates.

They swung open and Snape stepped through. Harry looked back over his shoulders, wondering if he should return to his snowball war. They probably thought he went missing or something.

Snape noticed his indecisiveness. "Go back if you must, but I assure you, Slughorn has found them. So unless you are eager for an extremely uninspiring story, I suggest you come back with me."

"And do what?"

"Study. Do you not have an exam in my class this week? Are you prepared?"

"There's still light out, professor. I doubt I could concentrate much."

"Then come study in my classroom. I'll ensure your concentration and comprehension."

Harry stared hard. This was an alluring offer. He was ready to link arms with Snape and skip off to his classroom to do some seriously hard _studying_, but that's just what Snape meant. Studying. And with him so close he didn't think he would get much studying done. Or any at all. He knew he would be tempted, and in such a closed, private space, his mind would be unable to wander from Snape's presence. Out there, he could think a little more and Snape wasn't pressing and sticking in his thoughts. Snape took a step back and then began heading towards the castle. Harry looked up in alarm. He had to choose friends or Snape. Fun or… studying. A bunch of wild boys or a potentially wild man? He found his legs carrying in the direction he was bound to choose. He wanted to cry wait up, but he found that if he ran just a little faster, he could keep up with Snape's persistently long strides. While on their course to Snape's classroom, no words were exchanged, and somehow, Harry was fine with the mutual silence. His throat was getting a little itchy from inhaling more than enough cold air.

Upon reaching the classroom, Snape opened the doors and then stepped through. It was cold and the air blew onto Harry's face. He shook and wanted so much to just cling to Snape's form. Ha, but what would he say? 'We need to huddle to conserve heat'? He was going to kick himself. Snape would surely hurl him from the nearest window. "Find a desk, and get comfortable." Said Snape as he pulled out a pile of papers and his quill.

Why did it always seem like Snape had more and more papers to mark? "Would you like some help, sir?"

"No, Potter. Your last paper will be enough work for me. I do not need you to create more."

"Well, sir, I left my textbooks back in the tower. I don't really have anything on me."

Without glancing at Harry, Snape replied dully, "There are spares on the back shelf.

Harry turned around and sighed. He didn't feel like studying Defense Against the Dark Arts or defense against anything. But he did want to study something a little darker. He spun on his heel and, instead, walked towards the front left where Snape was seated. "Professor."

The man looked up at him, uneasiness in his eyes. Harry's eyes fell towards the parchment which was completely devoid of marks. He hadn't touched it or any other paper since he seated himself. Did that mean his mind was also elsewhere? Could he feel it to? That weird, unexplainable something?

Awkward silence then followed, and Harry found that the tension surrounding them was making his ears ring and his head feel compressed… unless it was the after effects of being apparated. "Sir?"

"Yes?" Snape's attention seemed elsewhere.

"I wanted to know if you would like to dance with me." Harry was so unsure of himself that he almost stumbled over a few words.

"No." the older wizard's head slumped and his dark hair fell loosely like closing curtains.

"Why not?"

"Because I don't feel like dancing."

"But I want to."

The dark eyes flickered upwards. "Then dance. I'm not stopping you."

"Like this? By myself?" Harry frowned as he looked around the cold and gloomy classroom.

"You said you wanted to dance."

"Yeah, but not by myself. I require you assistance." He extended his hand.

The man sighed and then stood up. "I cannot. You need to leave."

Harry's eyes narrowed and his head felt a little lopsided. _What?_ What had he done now? "I'm sorry?"

"Leave now."

"Why won't you dance with me?"

"Potter, do not press. I have work and lessons to plan. I do not need you here _pestering._"

Snape moved towards Harry, inching gradually to the side as he stepped around him. However, before he could completely pass him, Harry gripped Snape's arm and held him back. "Why won't you dance with me? Is it something I did? Does it have to do with what happened with Ginny? Is me? You?" _Us?_

Snape twisted his arm out of Harry's grip with aggression. "Do not touch me."

"Professor?"

"You know as well as I do, Mr. Potter." He turned as to not have to face Harry.

"Know what, sir?"

"Do not pretend to be daft."

Oh Merlin. Was he really going to address the same issue Harry has been trying to push into the dark regions on his thoughts? "I do not know to what you are referring!"

Snape turned on him and, in an instant, he took Harry's hand in his fist and pulled the younger wizard closer. He was not met with resistance, as Harry knew that even the slightest opposition could lose him everything. It was too delicate. Their positions stood on wobbly foundations. "It has been becoming… inappropriate." The last word was uttered so softly it almost didn't reach Harry's ears.

"Inappropriate? How? You are my professor and you are tutoring me in dance!"

"Is that all? Has my guidance brought about anything else?"

"It's showing me how to become a better dancer! What are you insinuating? What is inappropriate?"

"I am not allowed to touch students."

Harry blinked several times, trying not to adjust his vision, but organize his thoughts and their situation. Snape was definitely trying to tell him something. He wasn't daft, like Snape said. He knew what was happening, and perhaps Snape sought an answer; an answer that only Harry could give him. "But this is dance…."

"I am not allowed to touch you."

Now Harry was quite flummoxed. "What are you talking about?"

"Fuck, Harry…," Snape looked frustrated and angry, and if Harry didn't already know Snape's personality, then he would've felt vulnerable and his physical state in jeopardy. Snape gripped his arm tight and forcefully tugged him closer. Harry stumbled slightly, but obliged Snape. The man leaned in even closer then and said clearly to Harry, "You don't want this," before he pressed his lips against the end of Harry's eyelid.

Harry choked on his breath then held it until Snape had finished, thrust him against his desk, and then fled the classroom. The spot just to the right of his eye felt pleasantly warm, and his cheeks even warmer, though his back ached slightly. He reached up slowly and placed two fingers over the spot before closing his eyes. _Fuuuck_…. It was really happening. _Does he… feel that way towards me too?_

Suddenly, his ground with Snape wasn't the only thing that felt a little wobbly. The floor didn't feel very secure either. He slouched down against Snape's desk and allowed his head to roll slightly. "That was nice." He commented to himself aloud. He just needed to hear himself say it. "Nice. Fantastic." He frowned. _Maybe I should have chased after him._ Then it dawned on Harry, how was he supposed to act when they meet next?

Severus Snape Severus Snape Severus Snape

"Followers, step back left, right, step left side and together. Repeat." McGonagall demonstrated with the help of Percy yet again. The tall boy blew at his bangs and pouted as the professor continued to travel around the room with him towing along. "You will manage this before we advance. Please try with your partners."

Ginny touched Harry's shoulder. "You know what? I think this class is going to get terribly romantic very soon."

Harry's eyelids were beginning to weigh down and his eyes felt like rolling back. He raised his hand lethargically and leaned it against Ginny's. "No slouching. Stand up straight," Ginny commanded as she stepped forwards and right onto Harry's foot. He winced and she jumped back. "I'm sorry!"

The pain was minor and gone in less than a moment. He managed a smile which, though lazy, was still reassuring. "I'm fine. And you're stepping the wrong way." He pressed Ginny backwards and they moved in their own small square as was demonstrated. Traveling would come later for him, for Harry did not wish to do much thinking and acting when his thoughts were rampant and his energies wasted. All night, morning, and afternoon his thoughts had been placing him in different situations with Snape and what he might have implied with that ridiculously short peck. Since Harry could not relay his latest achievement with Snape to his friends, he sat in the dark corners of the school pondering, and thus becoming irritated.

And this dance class would ultimately only make him even more irritated.

Snape had stepped away from McGonagall's side and a shy Slytherin girl approached him. Harry's own dancing came to a quick stop as his eyes darted from the girl to Snape and back to Ginny. "Is someone asking Professor Snape to dance?" she asked while trying to see the situation on the reflection of Harry's glasses.

"Maybe…"

The bashfully offered her hand and smiled as Snape nodded then swoop her into a mighty fine dance position. Harry's own arms felt heavy and he did not want to dance. He looked at Ginny and felt sad at his current state. He wished he could have pulled his heart out of his chest, screamed and demanded what it wanted. He then stared at Ginny's lips. He has kissed them more times than he cared to count. If he just had a nibble of Snape's then he would have something to compare it to. He would probably be able to come to a decision. He didn't care if that meant something else would arise. He had a pestering urge to discover this new interest and satisfy whatever it was that was poking him relentlessly.

For the rest of the class, Harry spent it trying to grasp the technique behind traveling while dancing and comprehending the pattern behind each of the dance moves. It was extra hard though, because he wanted to keep a close eye on Snape, who seemed to staring off into the clouds with each and every dance partner he received.

However, by the end, when he thought that he had a chance to indulge in Snape's presence, the man denied him even before he could ask with one cold word, "No." Then swept away from Harry before he could ask anything further of him.

By that week's following dance class, Harry had a hard time scouring the room for Snape while he danced. The hall so busy with students flying across the room in an hurried fashion that if Harry's eyes even for just a moment strayed, would likely collide into another couple. However, those few things that he did spot Snape, each time he was with a different girl – Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin alike. Ginny spun and then her foot's tip slowly caressed the floor in a slow, long stroke. He spun her again. "Harry, try to give it a little more. This dance is meant to be sensual."

"I have a treat for you all," said McGonagall as the music suddenly changed and instantly, Harry recognized it- the quick strokes of the violin, the uplifting, inspiring male voices… "El Tango de Roxanne. Please enjoy."

Snape then took McGonagall's hand and Harry witnessed the sensuality and intimacy of the tango. Snape's hands held McGonagall firmly in place, occasionally guiding her hips inward and outward, his body, curving to hers. She would spin and then come to a clean and immediate stop. She would pick up her feet and touch the floor lightly before her performed an _octo_. Snape would stomp with the ending beat. McGonagall's head would sway with ease and lift her arms as Snape dipped her then picked her up. It was a performance like nothing Harry has ever seen and he found himself stricken with awe, for want of a better word. His mind as also paused in the event, and every little word Ginny breathed at him, he never heard.

How could two people so effortlessly maintain a constant sync with each other as such?

"Harry!" Ginny touched his side.

His eyes slowly looked towards Ginny.

"Let's dance. You're the only one staring."

It was hard to not do so when the entire hall had suddenly dimmed and the song spoke to his heart.

_His hand upon your hand… his lips caress your skin…it's more than I can stand. Why does my heart cry? __Feelings I can't fight. You're free to leave me, but just don't deceive me__ a__nd please, believe me when I say__I love you._

The song ended, but Harry's heart could not stop aching. He stepped away from Ginny as Snape stepped away from McGonagall. "I need to sit down." His breath was slow and heavy, sweat ran dripped down his face, his clothes clung to his skin uncomfortably, and his hands felt unbearably cold.

He left Ginny's side before she could whisper another word. He plopped down on the long, empty bench and dropped his head onto his open palms. The cold flesh of his hand was greeted with the heated flush and sweat of his face. "Brilliant, just brilliant." Some days were worse than others, but tonight it was especially bothersome. His breathing was quickening and his heart would not stop hurting. He clutched his shirt and leaned forwards more until his forehead nearly touched his knees. "Stupid infatuations. Stupid."

A voice reached his ears. "Mr. Potter, are you alright?" McGonagall's hand touched his shoulder with caution.

_Fight it. Just bloody fight it!_

"I'm fine. Just a little tired."

"Would you like to return to your dorm?"

"Class is almost over." He protested.

"Very well," McGonagall's hand lifted and she walked away.

"I cannot take this forever." His eyes returned to Snape, who was to his interest, not dancing. He was against the opposite wall, the weight of his dark gaze falling heavily on Harry. "And I know you cannot either, right? Do you fancy me, professor?" his head dropped again, "I think… you're my Roxanne." Harry touched his face, over the exactly area where his nerves could still feel the ghostly touch of Snape's kiss. "You are no coward. You won't run away if I approached you, right?"

The class ended and the students left, giggling excitedly. The tango had granted so many girls and blokes alike the chance to be intimate with each other. Harry waited patiently until everyone, including McGonagall, had left before he stood and approached Snape. The man was not surprised when Harry touched his shoulder and forced him to look at him. "Hold me like you held them." Harry barely whispered.

Snape's eyes threatening him.

"Please." Then Snape's hand was touching his side with guidance. It brought Harry in quickly and without another word said, Harry found himself pressed closely to Snape. "Let me guide you. Do not fight me," his words, deep and in control, resonated deep inside Harry's ears. He shivered, wanting to, desiring to give Snape absolute control.

"Move your body against mine. Lift your arms and allow them to flow with your movements. Do not hesitate to glide you feet upon the ground. Move slowly with control." Already, Harry felt the hand held within Snape's grasp beginning to sweat and shake. He held tighter, hoping that Snape would not notice, or if he did, would not comment.

Harry found himself moving step by step backwards, allowing Snape to guide him until he stopped and Harry's feet crossed. "Uncross your feet and walk forwards with me." Then it was Snape who was walking backwards. "Sit on my knee and cross your legs. Then stand and glide across the floor. Follow me. Touch me." Harry gripped Snape's shoulder and swallowed deeply as Snape leaned forwards to dip him. Harry fell back with Snape's guidance and their faces gradually inching close. Harry's heart pulse sped up to painful rate as he felt a light breeze of air touching his lips; they were that close. Then as Snape began to lift him, Harry's hand found the back of Snape's neck and he raised himself quicker than Snape intended, and just as he began to close his eyes to kiss Snape, their noses collided and excruciating pain erupted front the front of his face. Snape dropped him and stepped back, touching the front of his own nose. Harry stared up at the ceiling, the back of his head and his nose pulsating, but his heart hurting the most. "Fuck," he whispered, unable to say much if anything else.

"I won't even pretend to ignore what you attempted, Mr. Potter." Snape's tone was unmistakably irritated. "You are foolish! Do you have any idea what you could have started?"

"I don't care… anything is better than nothing…," Harry stood and then accosted Snape, reaching out, ready to touch his face when Snape gripped the front of his shirt and once again, pushed him away.

"I said no," he was like a venomous snake, ready to strike.

But Harry felt much like a lion, determined and unwilling to let his pride fall. He brushed aside the blood flowing down his nose and then advanced upon Snape once again. "Why did you kiss me then?"

Snape's nostril's flared, "Leave before I do something regrettable."

Harry stood still then lifted his hands as if prepared to dance again. He spun towards Snape whose hand constricted his wrist with unfathomed strength. Harry hissed out, but then Snape dragged him forwards until they were close, but not close enough. He then spun Harry until his back was against his Snape's front, and then he pressed his palms up along Harry's arms. "You have no right to trust me, Potter." Harry was spun again until he was facing Snape. "Look at me. I am a man, not a child. And you are not to trust me."

Harry stared incredulously at the man in whose arms held him, and then found his voice lost and his thoughts stuck in the depths of his mind. Snape released him, bowed, then left the Hall. The music ended, but Harry's thoughts were suddenly roaming.

It wasn't until much later in the night did he return to the common room. To his dissatisfaction, he found Hermione waiting for him on the couch with the quibbler in her hand. "It's nearly two hours after curfew. What's been keeping you?"

"I was studying. Professor Snape was tutoring me," he wished that were the case.

"Until two hours after curfew?" Hermione frowned. "Anyways, it's late. I'm going to bed now. Good night, Harry."

Harry watched her go up and then collapsed on the sofa, woolgathering about his interesting predicament and how he was going to survive the rest of the term when it was already beginning to get worrisome. All he knew that that if he didn't stop, then one day he was going to slip. One day, he was going to give Snape exactly what he wanted and… he wanted to kiss him.

A/N: Delayed update and still no teasers?! I am very sorry, but let's hope the next chapter will be here faster.

Please review and encourage me to update more frequently! Your snarry fix will be coming shortly.


	8. Suspicion

_Two Left Feet_

A/N: I'm trying hard to upload the chapters on schedule, so I want to thank those that take the time to give me some feedback and even include their own personal experiences with dance classes and the creepy feelings they had when dancing with new and different people. Anyways, thank you and now we continue with the story.

Edited by Danyealle

Posted on February 24, 2010

Chapter 8

"Suspicion"

It was terribly odd to be in Snape's class after Harry so foolishly tried to coerce him into a snog. Every time the man would pass by him, Harry found his whole self tensing to the point of being petrified as the sweeping air from Snape's long strides rushed up against him. At one point, he was trying to understand the lesson through Hermione explanation and he was listening well and comprehending until he saw black robes gliding over the floor from his peripheral vision. Hermione's voice was magically muted and her gestures paused until Snape's presence journeyed elsewhere. Then it was as if life resumed.

Whenever the man spoke, he tried not to look at him, lest the wizard actually glance his way. When Snape had his back to the class, this was when he especially took to drinking in Snape's back form. His back's length was exaggerated by the sleek, black robes, but deliciously captured through the fabric whenever he removed his outer robe. Harry's exhaled softly before closing his eyes. He should instantly obstruct such frivolous thoughts until he knew he had indeed caught the _snitch_.

The following week's dance class, Harry was still recovering from the embarrassment associated with his futile attempt to snog Snape so he plopped onto his bed and ignored his dorm mates when they asked if he was going. When they finally gave up and left, Harry rolled over and thought it would be best to just shut everything from his mind and sleep a few more hours that night.

If he dreamt that night, he couldn't remember it, though he did try as he crawled to the Gryffindor table for breakfast. "Didn't you sleep enough last night?" asked Ron as he dug into his fried potatoes.

"I slept too much," Harry responded groggily.

While Hermione was reading from a textbook, Harry snatched up her issue of _The Daily Prophet_ and frowned. "Hogwarts students put their best foot forwards… what's this about? Our dancing class?"

"Of course the Prophet would find out. I just don't understand why they are reporting on this. It isn't like other schools don't offer dance classes."

"Yeah, but blimey, Hermione, no other school has Harry Potter."

The newspaper fell from Harry's open hand and he slammed his fist on the table, catching the eyes of several other students. "When did McGonagall announce an end of the semester winter fiasco?"

"Last night, but you weren't there," Ron said casually while mixing up his potatoes.

"It will be a semiformal event that'll take place the night before departure. Only sixth and seventh years can attend. It isn't meant to be that grand. I guess the Prophet is hoping that it'll be some big event for you, Harry, and they want to announce it to the world."

"That's terrible! And I'm not even a brilliant dance! Don't you know my nickname? I sometimes forget I have a right foot."

"Your nickname?" asked Ron curiously as his fork froze just before reaching his mouth.

"Snape calls me 'two left feet'."

"Since when has he called you that?"

"Since he first saw me dance. And I haven't improved that much, because every time I think I have something figured out, we begin a completely new dance."

"Anyways, McGonagall said we don't have to come in couples, but there will be a photographer if anyone wants a group or couple photos."

"Brilliant. More publicity. And I suppose they want to know who I'll be taking to the dance?"

Ron nodded vigorously. "Better watch your back or they'll catch you and make you announce your date."

Harry pushed away his plate suddenly not feeling very hungry.

"Are you going to ask Ginny?" asked Hermione.

He shrugged then turned to the comic section of the article. "I don't want it to be a huge thing if it isn't supposed to be. Maybe we can just all go together in a group?"

Ron nodded. "Yeah. Sounds like a plan."

"Well, let Ginny know as soon as you can. You know, being her boyfriend and all, I think she is expecting you to ask her out."

This was the part in which Harry was supposed to groan, but because Ginny and Hermione were close, and she was Ron's younger sister, he hesitated then swallowed it. He didn't want to go as her date. He didn't even want Ginny in their group because he knew that she would turn the entire event into a couple's night in which Harry would be doomed to spend the evening with just her. However, maybe he could turn it into a social party by refusing to run off without his friends. Perhaps he could even bring in Luna and Percy. It should be fun that way. Then they could dance in a large group and if he was feeling cranky, then someone was bound to sit the dances out. He smiled then nodded to himself. When he saw Ginny approaching the table, he was quicker on his feet than ever before and out the Great Hall with no destination in mind.

For the remainder of that week, Harry did everything to avoid Ginny and that ridiculous, not so subtle hint that she wanted to be asked out to the dance. However, Ginny was determined. While Harry was throwing snowballs with Percy, Ron, and a few other mates, Percy nudged him and pointed to the gates. There was Ginny in a hand-me-down snow coat and boots slowly treading through the snow towards them.

Harry threw his last snow ball and then pretended to go catch it somewhere in the woods never returning. At dinner time, Harry thought tonight would be a brilliant night to sit with Luna at the Ravenclaw table and eat while enjoying a nice chat. Ginny never even saw him.

Later, when everyone was retiring to their dorms, Harry decided that was nothing like a bath to relieve him of all his worries.

By the next day, however, his plans were wearing down and he could only think of so many things to dodge Ginny. Now he had Defense Against the Dark Arts and Ginny_ always_ sat by him. He intended to show up later than usual, hoping that the last seats would be far from her and maybe towards the front. It was not his lucky day, because the only seats available when he wandered in just seconds before time, were by Ginny, or by Neville's Slytherin equivalent. Harry pursed his lips and decided that either way, he was doomed. He reluctantly took the seat by Ginny because he did not want to lose half his face by a wayward curse. "Harry," she smiled, "How are you? I've noticed you've been busy."

Harry nodded as he pulled out his textbook and wand. He flipped through several pages and then began practicing the wand maneuver techniques required to perfect a certain spell.

"Anyways, are you leaving the weekend before the departure?"

"I don't know. I kind of miss my oversized cousin. I'm curious to see if his fat arse has outgrown the house."

Ginny leaned forwards, "There's no hurry, right? I mean you have the whole break to take his measurements."

"Yeah, but I want an early start." Harry stood up just as Professor Snape entered the room and assumed his position by another student.

"Today we will continue counter spells. Carry on," the professor said as the desks and chairs vanished from the room.

As Harry dueled with another student, Ginny stood next to him, trying to duel Hermione. In between hexes, Ginny would say, "You heard about the dance, right? I know it isn't really supposed to be big, but I thought it would be nice…"

"I already told Ron, Hermione, and Luna that we'd go as a group."

Ginny gasped and looked as if someone had poured cold water over her. "And you didn't have the decency to ask me?"

"I wasn't sure if Hermione or Ron had already told you."

"Yes. But I'm your girlfriend! It's different!"

"Yes. But they're my best friends."

"Am I not your friend too? Or am I just a girl that's there for your convenience?" Ginny had muttered that more loudly than she realised and Snape looked up from his desk.

"That's not what I meant, Gin. It's just that I don't want to make this into a couple's night."

Ginny was ready with a retort but then her eyes widened and her lips shut. Harry was rather satisfied with her silence until close to his ear, a soft voice whispered with an agitated tone, "Either you control both yourself and your girlfriend or you leave my classroom."

Harry felt his nerve explode in his head. It ruptured with such irritation that it channeled into his magic and blew his opponent into the opposite wall. "Good work, Potter." Snape touched Harry's shoulder then left.

Harry stared at the Slytherin boy as he fell from the wall, leaving behind his impression. Harry then smiled and nodded contently to himself.

For the remainder of class, and to Harry's joy, Ginny left him alone then followed Hermione to duel at the other end of the line. Harry felt relief seep out through his pores and thought that for the rest of class, he would be all right. And he cherished that idea until the doors opened and in stepped Healer Quinn and Alexander. Harry was just about to channel a curse when he was Alexander extend a smile his way. "Class dismissed," Snape suddenly said as he stepped around his desk to greet his visitors. Harry wanted to linger but as soon as Snape noticed, he excused himself and went towards Harry. "This is for the better," he said as he urged Harry towards the door. "I do not have time for you."

Harry Potter Harry Potter Harry Potter

"It's all over the papers," Ginny placed the _Daily Prophet_ onto Harry's curled fist. "They want to know who you are taking to the dance."

"Maybe I should write to the press and tell them to shove it up their arse!"

"Yeah, and have them publish that too? A threat from _the_ Harry Potter will be too scandalous for them to tuck into their drawers."

"Then what do you want me to do? Publically announce my date?"

"I'm just saying that if you want them to lay off for a while, then just tell them you're going with me."

"But I'm not. I'm going with a group. Besides, if you give them what they want, they'll twist it into a more outrageous story."

"Then you'll ignore them?"

"It's not like they're going to corner me and threaten a story out of me. I don't have one. At least nothing they'll find interesting."

"Who will the Golden Boy bestow the honor of accompanying to the dance? Really, this is silly," Hermione tossed the paper aside. "I want to know if they've found the missing Death Eaters, what are happening to those on trial, what about their families and children, and all those missing cases! Why don't those ever make it on the Prophet?!"

"Hermione, if such truthful stories ever made it onto the Prophet, the newspaper company might be losing its touch," Ron explained.

"No offense Harry but nothing interesting is going on in your life now. Not since last year." The way Hermione's hair puffed when she got frustrated amazed Harry.

"Anyways, to lighten the mood, how about we go to Hogsmeade?" Ron suggested as he stood up from the tables.

Hermione's hand dropped from her hair, "That sounds lovely! Put us right out there with any stationed reporters. Brilliant Ron. I think this is your best plan yet." Hermione was clearly irritated.

Ron shrugged it off and began walking towards the door, "It might do us all some good to get some fresh air."

Harry was behind Ron out the door. Ginny shrugged then motioned for Hermione to come with. Once outside, Harry was pleased to feel the cold winds against his face. He extended his arms and inhaled deeply with a more than satisfied expression. He closed his eyes and smiled as he exhaled. Then he shivered and said, "I love the snow. We should have brought Percy out and had another snowball war. I didn't see the last one through."

"Lucky bastard aren't you? Slughorn caught us in the middle of us building a fort and bored us with a lesson about dignity and fairness in snowball warfare. He was mental. There isn't such thing in snowball war. What does he know?"

"Apparently enough to bore you."

"Where did you go anyways?" asked Ron as he side glanced at Harry.

Ginny was catching up and watching Harry intently. "I had a detention with Snape I forgot about," he said quickly, trying to keep the others from further interrogations in matters pertaining to Snape.

"What did you do?" Ginny asked.

"I talked back to him… it doesn't matter. I'm over it."

For the rest of the walk, Harry couldn't ignore the tug he felt from Ginny but he did his best. He thought that, perhaps, she knew he was spending more time with Snape than ever before. But now, since dance classes between them two were supposedly over, there was nothing for her to stalk him to.

Upon reaching the village, Ron immediately suggested that they go to the Hog's Head because he was in dire need of a butterbeer. Harry concurred, and since Ginny would go wherever Harry went, Hermione had no choice but to follow through. "But remember, Ron, we need to find something suitable for the dance. I think a nice top and some jeans will suffice."

"Bloody hell, I don't want to think about that now. I just want my beer!" Ron slapped his hand on the bar and demanded his beer. The bartender laughed and then told him he'd have all four ready in a second. In the mean time, Harry found a table by the window, which was completely steamed up due to contrasting temperatures. "When was the last time we were here?"

"Not for a long ago," said Ron as he watched the bartender. "I hope he fills mine to the top."

Hermione shook her head. "Honestly, Ron, can't you think of anything other than your stomach?"

"_Honestly_, Hermione, it's a matter of priorities."

"Here you go lads," said the waitress as he placed the four mugs on the tables. "Can I get you anything else?"

"Just prepare my second beer," Ron smiled and the waitress left.

Harry sipped his beer staring at the fogged up window. He occasionally felt a hesitant tug at his sleeve, but he had no intention of chatting with Ginny. He didn't want to go to the dance with her. If anything, he didn't even want to go period. The only thing making him besides the fact that it was mandatory was the promise of seeing Snape dressed up. Harry's lips curled upwards and his toes downwards. Snape in shiny shoes and dressy robes made his stomach giggle… or was it the beer? He looked down and drank a few mouths full. Today was going just splendid and he wondered what could possibly ruin his day other than Ginny. He never paid attention to the doors opening and closing, as they regularly did. His mind was elsewhere until suddenly there were flashes and voices and microphones in front of his face. Harry jumped up, spilling the remainder of his beer in the process. He looked over and saw at least ten reporters with quills, notepads, and cameras and all screaming and demanding answers and Ginny, Ron, and Hermione had all suddenly vanished behind the crowd! And they were still pressing forwards. "Harry, what is your favourite dance?"

"Do you like ladies in short dresses?"

"How so high heels make you feel?"

"What are your plans for after the party?"

"Who will you be going with to the party?"

Harry thought that anything could help his situation now, even if it meant diverting the group towards another unfortunate individual. He immediately pointed to Ginny, and said, "Her! My girlfriend!"

Half of the group had to have swerved over to Ginny at that moment and Harry was thrilled that maybe he'd have a chance to out run the rest, for they were either both fat and hefty, or wearing high heels. However, just as Harry thought he had a chance, more suddenly started to swarm into the bar like gnats. Harry was definitely panicking now. There was no way he was going to escape. He considered sitting down and answering all their questions when the room filled with a dark matter that was neither gas nor smoke. Harry took that as an imitative to stand and run. He made it just two feet before something that felt like arms encircled him and then he was flying.

He cried out at first, trying to alert the attention of his friends, but he couldn't see anyone. He could only hear Hermione, Ron, and Ginny along with the reporters crying out for him. He was being kidnapped right above them and none of them could see him. Then, suddenly, everything started to clear and he couldn't hear anyone anymore. Only the roaring of the wind as it smashed against his face and pounded against his ears. He opened his eyes and saw that he was soaring just feet above the trees. That dark matter was above him, holding him, and at the contact point, it felt like hands. It had to be someone, but who? Then Harry's heart sped up. The only witches and wizards that could fly without the aid of a broom were the Death Eaters. Harry wanted to struggle, but something about the situation was calming, and in some twisted sense, he felt safe. The hands were warm against his sides and as it began lifting him closer, he could soon feel a warm chest against his back. He then looked forwards and saw that they were heading for Hogwarts… there was currently only one employed ex-Death Eater residing there…. "Professor?" Harry said softly.

"Potter," the voice whispered.

"It's really you…," Harry was flying with Snape, and as he looked up, he saw that they were heading towards one of the tallest towers, the Astronomy Tower. Harry closed his eyes then, just relishing in the rush of the wind and the feeling of being high and soaring. Very soon though, they dove into the tower and Harry was guided to the floor. As soon as his feet touched, the dark clouds surrounding Snape's body disappeared and the man stood there before Harry, peering down at him. "You should know better than to go out when they are especially seeking you."

"Did you follow me?"

"I was in the area."

Harry breathed in deeply. Snape smelled strongly of earth again and Harry's stomach was hosting a party for butterflies once more. His palms also felt hot and sweaty so he clenched then stretched them. He felt like today was going to be the day he would do something so stupid it would surpass his entire history of stupidity. All eighteen years of it. Then Snape turned around and faced the balcony, where they could see nothing but white and smokes from the chimneys of Hogsmeade. "Are you going to the dance?" asked Harry.

"I am obligated to."

"Will you be dancing with the students?"

"Do I have a choice?"

Harry stomped on a dark brown leaf by his shoe. "I mean, will you dance with me?"

There was a pregnant silence, then Snape looked over his shoulder at Harry, "If we're alone," his voice was soft and his countenance inscrutable.

Harry then dared to take a few step forwards and though, they were small and hesitant, his path towards Snape felt longer than ever. But when he felt a hand at his chest, Harry stopped for only a moment, then pressed on. Snape's hand all too easily glided over his chest and onto his shoulder where it then brought him forwards until Harry's forehead touched the crook of Snape's neck. Snape exhaled softly, looked down at Harry then closed his eyes. "Professor?"

"Hmm?"

"Could we exchange Christmas gifts?"

"Such an act would suggest favouritism and I do not wish to direct such attention towards you."

"Would it be so bad if it were in secret?"

"Forget it, Potter."

Mutual silence was sensed at both ends and Harry contented himself with just being close to the man. Soon then would have to part. Soon they would have to descend the stairs. But for now, they could have each other.

A/N: Once again I must express my apologies for not having the teasers. But life has kept me very busy. Anyways, please make my day and tell me about anything! Yes, anything! About this story, about your own personal experiences with dance, about how this update made or did not make your day. Thank you.


	9. The Ball

_Two Left Feet_

Chapter 9

"The Ball"

For the umpteenth time, Harry gazed into his reflection, not really seeing himself, but fragments of contemplation played upon his self. In his mind, there was only trepidation for the evening. Nothing could go well when girls and especially Ginny were dressing up. He knew that Ginny's main goal tonight was not to bend her luck and seduce him, but to look her best so that Harry could not look at any other girl but her. He always thought Ginny looked amazing, even if she was wearing clothes that didn't fit her right and were rather faded and old. Something about her vibrant eyes and long hair always seemed to avert his attention, and her smile never failed to make even his saddest moment a little brighter. She was always happy, even if she didn't have much and her family couldn't give her the best. Maybe that was what attracted him to her in the beginning, but now… and even unluckier soul seemed to have caught more than just his eyes with the nastiest spell ever conjured. Harry thought for a second that he had a soft spot for the less fortunate, and the more unfortunate the better.

"You look fine! You're hair is unruly, your eyes are green, and your clothes actually fit! Stop fretting and let's go!" Ron whined as he tugged at Harry's arm with a sluggish attempt to pry him from the mirror.

"I have to look my best!" Harry pretended to slick back his hair, but it was short-lived as Ron hurled a spell that shot the comb from Harry's hand. "I was going to use that."

"It didn't like your hair very much anyways. C'mon."

As soon as they left the dorm room and headed down the hall towards the stair way that led to the common room, Harry saw Ginny exiting through the portrait. Even within the few seconds that he saw her, he could tell that she really dressed up that night for him and he was nervous that he hadn't fought for his chance to comb his hair. He stopped mid step and was ready to turn around when Ron pressed his hands against his chest. "Stop the rubbish. What are you worried about? You have a date!" Ron gestured towards his sister who was looking as radiant as ever, Harry reminded himself.

"That's not it, Ron! I just don't want to go."

"C'mon! It's just a little social event! Everyone's wearing jeans!"

"I know! I just don't feel like being paired off."

Ron titled his head and raised a brow. "Are things not going well between you two?"

That conversation was the exact one Harry wish to discuss in the least with Ron. "No." He said flatly. "We're fine. I just feel like I need some breathing space."

"You know, you both have been a little distant. What gives?"

"School. I've been busy. She's been busy. We both need our space."

"That's troll shit. I know you, Harry. You couldn't part yourself from her before."

"Yeah, well air isn't as overrated as it was before." Harry pushed passed Ron. This was not the time, or night, to talk about his insecurities with Ginny. Still bearing with his confusion about his sexuality, he had no business trying to understand by another's mean.

Ron followed him down the stairs and together they left with Percy and a few others. The halls were are dim and cold as ever, but upon approaching the Great Hall, Harry saw that the elves wasted no efforts in the décor that brightened the entrance and the courtyard. Much like the Yule Ball, everything was dazzling with silver, floating crystal lights and the halls that smelled of pine. Harry inhaled and softly smiled. It was really nice, and McGonagall was wearing her deepest emerald green robes. She greeted them with a smile then moved on. Just beyond her was Ginny.

When her eyes fell onto Harry, she did something like a double take and then her lips curled deviously. Either that or she was trying to control her smile. She then swung herself a little from side to side and looked down. Harry couldn't have imagined that he looked that fantastic. He knew that he didn't clean up like she did every day, but he shaved regularly and attempted to tame his hair. Harry looked up at the ceiling, hoping that there wasn't anything floating around that might've triggered her smile. When Harry looked back down at Ginny, she was moving pass Hermione and Luna, who were both forwarding their approval with a smile, towards him. She paused just a foot away and her smile really took over then and she displayed a small nest of slightly misaligned teeth. Harry smiled back, though it was crooked and slightly forced. "You look great," Harry said.

"As do you," Ginny responded with a brief curtsy.

To Harry, Ginny was as tender to the eyes as a floral portrait. Very pretty, easy to behold, admire, and even perhaps purchase to hang in the entrance hall. Such a portrait that pretty would attract the guests' eyes and maybe initiate a casual conversation that would soon grow old and then forgotten. "I like what you did to your hair," Harry curled his fingers around his hair which made it look more like he was calling her mad. And, maybe subconsciously he was.

Harry then wondered how long such a style took, and if he involved advance magic. It had to, because Harry couldn't fathom such hair making sense when physics were involved. Did girls always do such work for one occasion? Did they end up sleeping with it? That did not sound very comfortable.

"You're really pretty tonight." Harry smiled again, but the attraction he felt towards Ginny was the same he felt towards a pretty rose. See it, sniff it, maybe touch it and if you're feeling thoughtful, clip it and give it to your mum to fond over and then walk away. There was no desire to keep it, to hold it, or caress it with the same urgency Harry once felt towards Ginny.

Ginny reached for his hand, which Harry received without hesitation. Tonight should be a fun night for them and their friends. Just hopefully he would not have to bear the burden of Ginny for the entirety of the night. Ron, Percy, Hermione and Luna followed Harry and his date into the Great Hall, which was covered in an assortment of sliver blues and lights. The ceiling was bewitched to represent a snowy night sky, and everywhere small snowflakes could be seen falling. Harry pressed on until he could see a long table filled with an assortment of temping, eatable arrangements.

The tables, which were placed more towards the front of the hall, were simply decorated with a delicate, shimmering cloth, a few candles and a centerpiece that resembled a miniature Christmas tree. No tables were assigned to either students or house. Thus, students freely mingled.

In the far corner, where a tall silver tree had been erected and covered with enough ornaments to cover every branch was a long line of students and flashes of light. A photographer was taking the picture of every happy couple in attendance. Harry swallowed and hoped to himself that he wouldn't have to make his way over there by the end of the night.

Harry followed Ron and Hermione to a table closet to the dance floor, which, to Harry's convenience, had a clear view of the faculty's table. Though his eyes were settled on Ron as he pulled back the seat, he was taking care to not notice Ginny waiting for him to pull back her seat. He then slipped into his seat and strategically slipped into conversation between Ron and Hermione. Soon, they were joined by Percy and two of his mates. "Looking a little down, Potter. Reckon these will cheer you up." Harry watched him curiously as Percy reached into his pocket and pulled out several tiny bags just big enough to hold a dainty ring.

"Look at these beauties." Percy touched the bags with the very tip of his wand and they all popped back into size with a fairly large branch of mistletoe encased. "Got them while in Hogsmeade. Some old fellow was selling them like hot cakes. Thought they would be appropriate this evening." With a swift wave, the bags disbursed to all the men of the table.

Harry reached out and took the floating mistletoe back into his hand then shrunk it so that he may slip it into his pocket. Ginny smiled then said, "They're really quite gorgeous."

"Yes, but don't handle them. They'll give you a nasty rash."

The conversation continued, followed by the Christmas feast. While Percy remained in deep talk with his friends, Harry's thoughts were elsewhere… and the mistletoe was ever present in his pocket.

When the feast was over and the music could be heard over the forks and knives, students began their evening dance. Ginny was escorted by Hermione and a few other girls without another glance at Harry. Percy then approached Harry quietly and whispered, "Things don't seem to be going well… but perhaps you'll have a little luck tonight." He winked then went off to join the others.

No… Harry thought. For the one he wished to persuade was a man not to be tried with. But the more Harry thought of the mistletoe in his pants, the more possible his goal seemed… and the more he ached for those black robes to be upon him.

Harry breathed in and focused on the dance floor. He was rather eager to practise what he had learned, but even more so to dance with the man who taught him the art of language in the movement of the body. Snape was truly a magnificent dancer with his robes always flowing in such a way that gave them life. Ever careful were his steps… calculated, taken with care, graceful… Severus Snape. Unknowingly, Harry sat. His eyes laid heavily upon Snape, and it was so obvious, Ron had to come between the eyes' path and the figure of attachment. Harry could not blink until the final beat of the song. When everyone applauded, Ron whispered, "Sorry… but it ain't normal, Harry. Are you really staring at the bloody git?"

"That was uncalled for," Harry rose and turned away from his friend just as Snape disappeared into the adjacent gardens.

Harry had only just turned the corner when already Snape was not to be seen, and it was to no surprise. The man's black robes could perfect disappear into the folds of shadows of the tall, snow covered bushes. This seemingly formidable obstacle served to heighten his senses. Several more careful steps into the maze and his determination boiled in his stomach and enflamed his skin. He was going to find Snape whether his conscience was willing to guide him or not. For the heart was never one to side with logic. As if led by a hand, Harry carried on left towards a maze of tall white rose bushes whose shadows matched the depth and thickness of the bushes. All was too quiet and too still. Harry's own breathing slowed to a steady pace and he remained mindful until he was suddenly yanked aside. He hadn't the moment to dwell in surprise because a sharp tone redirected his state of mind. "Return to your date."

"Professor?" Still, Harry's voice had cracked in surprise.

"I do not have time for this tonight." Snape's grip around Harry's arm had tightened.

"What are you doing out here?" Harry whispered while glancing between Snape's apparently unyielding grip and his eyes.

"Where is… Ms. Weasley?" Snape's hold on Harry somehow managed to strengthen.

"Inside, dancing I believe. What business is this of hers?"

"Her boyfriend is outside with his professor. This is very much her business."

"It's just us, Professor." At last, Snape released Harry.

The snow fell quietly and neither soul moved or pondered on anything else besides the eyes into which they gazed. "It's Christmas…," was Harry's poor excuse. His head tilted forwards ever so slightly and then his thoughts returned to the mistletoe in his left pocket. There it was, just waiting for its moment and Harry could not pass the opportunity no matter how childish.

"Stay warm," were supposed to be Snape's parting words before turning away.

About midstride, Harry's impulsive behaviour blurted, "Wait!"

The look upon the professor's face had made Harry wish he had held his tongue. Well, almost that is. Harry was not one to gather his thoughts or words before acting. Tonight, on this glorious evening, he was responding to only what he thought was necessary to get what he wanted.

Snape was barely able to take two strides before he felt a bit of familiar magic approaching him, steadily, harmlessly, yet pressing to be heeded.

Snape was taken aback when he realised that the boy who was currently pursuing him would resort to such juvenile tactics, yet it was charmingly Muggle of him. Snape's eyes had only beheld the small green branch with the little white berries before it began to sway in gentle current back towards Harry. There it hovered over Harry's head and mischievously shuck its berries. Snape knew mistletoes to have no magical attributions of its own, but the superstitions that were associated with it still weigh heavily in people's minds and hearts. Harry's insinuation could not have been clearer, and it, Snape dared to admit to himself, warmed his cheeks. Snape had lost count of how many times Harry has tried something with him.

Harry inhaled sharply, bringing Snape from his thoughts."Kiss me."

Snape wanted to close his eyes, close the world from them, and then give Harry… something real. "You are a fool." He felt an unyielding exhaust extending from the fragments of his thoughts to his whole self.

Snape took a step forward then withdrew his wand. "This will not happen again."

Harry was half ready to close his eyes when the sudden smell of burning wood followed by crackling and a loud pop startled him. There above, the mistletoe was aflame and it's little, grey ashes were falling slowly to the snow paved ground; a flicker of hope gone before its chance to blossom.

His crestfallen state was short lived, however. Something was being pressed into his palm and when Harry came too, he was holding a small white parcel. His frown grew into a funny smile which somehow became even more awkward once he realised Snape was gazing at him. There was something soft and sad about those eyes, and Harry wanted to believe it was Snape's reluctance to indulge in anything he thought he was undeserving of. "This is great!" Harry then said while looking at the tiny, carefully wrapped parcel that was clearly intended to be delivered, but once again his name was off.

_Please deliver to _

_Two Left Feet_

"I wanted to get you something too, but I wasn't sure you'd except…" Harry's thoughts scatted and his eyes fell shut the second Snape's lips touched his cheek.

Harry's entire being shuttered with a heavy desire and an ache for more. But when Harry's eyes finally remembered how to see, the expected soft smile from his accomplice's face was instead cringed into an angry, fixed gaze. "Sir?"

"How old are you?"

Harry thought of a few quick remarks he could have said in place of his age, but when it came to, Harry instead heard himself reply, "Eighteen."

Harry plotted down beside Ron, who had contented himself with watching the others dance. "Where the bloody hell have you been?" he asked in a rather even tone.

"Cooling my head."

"For an hour?"

Harry casually shrugged.

"What's with you?"

"I just needed air, alright?"

It was then that Ginny spotted Harry and quickly came to his side, "Harry," she was expectantly shocked and quite worried. "Where have you been?"

Seeing Ginny nearly at the edge or breaking, but doing her best to restrain her emotions somehow reached Harry. She always knew how. He understood… he had ruined her night thus far, and though he really didn't want to, he felt he owed her a dance. Harry had wanted to believe it was the least he could do, but given his latest sentiments, it was probably the most he could offer her. He never answered her. He took her hand and led her towards the crowd of freely dancing students. To Harry, they felt very still in his moment with Ginny.

"Harry?"

Harry's eyes looked at her as if she wasn't there.

"Harry?"

He then shook his head and step forwards, leading her into a slow dance though others were moving at a quicker tempo. "I'm sorry, Ginny."

"Are you alright?"

"I'm sorry I haven't been there for you like I should've been."

"It's alright. I'm sure there are other things that need your attention. I understand. Whatever it is." Despite everything she still smiled. "Whatever it may be."

"You're amazing, Ginny," Harry smiled back at her and they continued in a slow dance even long after the song had ended.

At about midnight, the Gryffindor common room filled with the sound of ruffling and shuffling as students scrambled to get into their beds, exhausted from their long evening of dancing. Harry gave Ginny a sweet parting kiss before following Ron to their beds. "Well that was… nice," Ron commented as he pulled his shirt over his head and threw it to the side.

"Yes I suppose."

Ron kicked off his dance shoes then yanked the covers over his head as he snuggled his face into his pillow. "Augh, why do we have to be up early tomorrow!"

"What?" asked Harry.

"Tomorrow the train leaves at ten in the morning. You are coming aren't you? We were going to go to Romania and visit my brother, but the family wants a quiet sit in this year. You know, after everything that's happened…."

"Is your mum alright?"

"She's been having more good days, so says dad. I can't wait to see my parents and my brothers. You're like family to us, so we'd really like you there. Plus, I bet they'll want you and Ginny to show off what you've learn in dance."

"I was scared of that," Harry kicked off his shoes and also pulled the covers over his body.

"But you're coming, right?"

Harry sighed, "Yeah. Sure."

It only took Ron a few minutes after that before Harry could hear light snoring. He turned his back to his mate then felt something pressing in his pocket. Excitement nearly made his jump from his bed as he flipped over and pulled from his pocket the small, seemingly flat parcel. On the back, there was a small note that Harry had overlooked.

_Two Left Feet,_

_You haven't improved. If you've been a nice boy this year, ask Santa to bring you a new right foot._

_Happy Christmas._

_S.S._

Harry undid the sealer and a cassette popped out and nearly smacked Harry in the face. Luckily, habit allowed him to catch it with timely reflexes. The cassette had no title, but another note.

_Practise will not make you perfect, but it certainly will help._

"Wow!" Harry could not believe Snape knew of these devices, let alone make a mix tape. "Wow…" This was great. Now he just had to find a radio with a player.

Harry held the cassette against his chest, quietly wondering what was becoming of him and his old nemesis. Whatever they were doing, it was slowly unraveling.


	10. Withdrawn

_A/N:_ Hi, yes, miss you all! Love you all! Just wanted to remind all you lovely readers that this story is meant to be fast paced.

_Two Left Feet_

Chapter 10

"Withdrawn"

Posted July 6, 2011

Another year, another Christmas at the Burrow. Harry had left Hogwarts with Ron and his sister Ginny after exchanging hugs with Hermione and Luna, and a casual handshake with Percy. All the way back to the station in London, Harry kept wondering if Ron's dad happened to have in his possession a working tape player. Hopefully he was familiar with the object in question. When they had arrived at Platform Nine and Three Quarters, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were there along with Bill and Flur, Charlie, Percy, and George. Harry, as always, was welcomed warmly before being brought to his second home.

It was early in the afternoon, yet nevertheless, Mrs. Weasley was scurrying about the house ranting about everything that needed to be done and relaying planned activities for later that evening. Harry was in the kitchen with Arthur, peeling potatoes. He really seemed to have it have mastered the art of peeling swiftly without removing the meat. And Harry was so transfixed on Arthur's performance that he had barely finished one potato. "You're not going to peel it by staring at mine, you know," Arthur chuckled. "Molly likes these done by hand. Says that magic doesn't do a proper job. Of course, I charmed the peeler to guide my hand perfectly. All I have to do are quick flicks of the wrist."

The man was a genius. "That's brilliant sir!"

Arthur gave a brisk nod. "You know, I could always charm your shoes."

Harry hand, about to peel the potato, stopped short. He was afraid Arthur would bring that up.

"Ron tells me you've earned the nickname 'two left feet'."

"Err, I'm getting better."

"Who gave you that nickname by the way?"

"Um, Professor Snape."

Arthur chuckled while shaking his head in amusement. "It's strangely charming. He's still a difficult man to be around, but I think since the end of the war he's softened a bit. Either that or Nagini's venom stupefied his bitter, irritable side."

"Probably both have made him a changed man."

At the moment, Molly walked into the kitchen, hands on her hips and a frown smacked across her face. "Why aren't my potatoes pilled, Mr. Potter?"

Harry's hand rushed to peel the last half of his first potato. "Sorry, Mrs. Weasley!"

"Arthur, are you distracting my good little helper? Keep it up and no present for you." She shook her chubby finger at him as she turned the corner.

When Harry believed she was absolutely gone, he asked Arthur, "Do you happen to have a cassette player?"

"A casket….?" Arthur looked intrigued.

"No a cassette. It plays tapes… here, like this," Harry wouldn't allow himself to compliment on the fact that he has been holding onto the tape, but for now it was a good idea.

Arthur took the strange little rectangular object from Harry's hands with just the tips of his fingers. He held it up and looked through the reels before tapping gently. "Very curious little device you have here, Harry. What's if for?"

"It records… sound I guess. This one will play music."

"Oh! Like a record?"

"…yes."

"Well, let us see what I have in my shed. Perhaps I can be of service!"

Arthur left the kitchen in such a rush, Molly never noticed.

Harry followed pursuit and in a moment Arthur had undone the lock to his shed and was blowing off dust from various objects. "I'm sure I have something here. Feel free to look around, Harry. Just don't break anything."

Harry frowned. That little bit was already taken care of. The challenge was to find something unbroken. Harry took blew off dust, coughed, and continued through a pile of objects that even to Harry were unrecognizable. Mostly rubbish. However, he did not give up hope. Not until nearly forty minutes of endless blowing and searching. Harry exited the shed, not really caring that Arthur was still looking or that he was completely covered in dust. He sneezed a few times, nearly knocking off his footing, but Harry was a big boy and would do no such thing.

It just so happened that Ginny and Hermione were there to greet him. "You look ghastly," said Ginny.

"Honestly, what were you doing in there? Dusting with your hair?" Hermione waved her hands as if to redirect dust coming her way.

Harry swatted his hair in a brief attempt to rid himself of the dust. "I asked Mr. Weasley if he happened to have something. If he does, I don't think we'll find it."

"What are you looking for?" asked Hermione.

"A cassette player of some sort."

While Ginny looked bewildered, Hermione had that aw sort of look. "Why didn't you just ask me? I have one on me."

Next thing Harry knew, he was holding the very much sought after cassette player complete with ear pieces and batteries. Harry locked himself in Ron's room and sat on the bed. He slipped the tape into the player and hit play.

The tempo was clear, it was a waltz. And while Harry thought it would be foolish for him to try and dance this alone in the room and risk getting caught, he had only to close his eyes. He stood and stepped. One, two, three, one, two, three, one, two, three… And Harry was dancing in a sort of triangle around the room, remembering to pause and step carefully. Also to bend the knees and remember his right foot. After a few rounds of this safe practice, Harry twirled and counted his steps. Everything was going well. Everything was just perfect.

The second song had quicker, lively tempo which quickly jarred Harry's hearted. Harry's feet stepped in beat and he found himself trying to move his hips with the tempo and snap his fingers. He thought he looked silly, but he was putting forth effort and he was going to show everyone he could dance. He spun and threw his arms up, really feeling the beat. It wasn't until he spun to the side did he notice several pairs of eyes on him. He had been discovered too soon.

"You're not half bad. You just have to work on that hip thing," George pointed to Harry's butt.

"He's gotten better since I last danced with him," Ginny giggled behind Hermione who was displaying her approval in a slow nod.

Ron was munching on something and didn't have anything to say.

Stricken with the anxiety of being caught, Harry had nothing to say back. He stuck his hands in his pocket and exhaled. He really didn't want to talk. He wanted to slam the door closed and make sure he thoroughly locked it.

"Don't worry mate, they'll be laughing at both of us tonight."

"What?" Harry wasn't sure he wanted to understand Ron's comment.

"Mum's going to make us dance. She wants to see what we've learned," Ginny smiled. "It'll be fun. Don't worry."

"What?" Harry shot back, looking flabbergasted.

"We'll all be doing it. Even Flur said she'll dance."

"When was this decided?"

"When you were fiddling around in the shed," Hermione responded. "Shall we leave you to your practise?"

Hermione's question was answered with a door shut right in their faces.

No one saw Harry again until dinner.

When the clock stroke seven Harry finally descended the stairs. He had thrown on a red polo shirt and jean and his usual shoes. All the girls were dressed up. Ginny was wearing a velvety red dress with her hair flowing freely. Hermione had an egg shell white dress with her hair gathered up. Flur wore silver and Molly wore green. Ron, like Harry had paid no attention to his attire. "Harry dear, would you like some roast?"

"Yes please!" Harry was hurrying to the table, but stopped short when he saw only two open seats. Fortunate was his, because the closest seat was between Hermione and Flur. He slipped in and reached for the offered plate which was filled with wonderful smelling food that gave his stomach a sort of pull. He was so hungry and immediately dove in, not really caring that Ron was behind, staring down at him with a very discontented frown.

Hermione gave Ron a sort of shrug, and so Ron made his way to the seat between Ginny and his mom.

Lemon pies and cherry cakes, along with frosted cookies and cranberry scones followed dinner. Like every year, there were more delectable treats than could be consumed, and so Harry filled his plate before having a seat on the couch. He knew what was coming next, because an old friend of the family, a man whom Harry had not met, picked up his violin.

The swift rhythm reminded Harry of the green plains of Scotland and girls with long, curly red hair. Ginny and Hermione had linked arms and were swinging around in beat to the music, kicking their feet and waving their other arms. Before long, George jumped from the couch and yanked Charlie from his seat. "Whooo!" He spun them both and Bill joined by clapping and tapping his feet in the quickening tempo of the music.

Flur remained seat with her hand placed over her small stomach.

Harry's hand reached for a bowl of cranberries, and began to shove small handfuls into his mouth. Ginny then reached out for Harry, who shook his head and pointed at his nearly empty bowl. "C'mon!" She called. Her hair was bouncing everywhere, so Harry could hardly see her face. He wasn't sure if she was being serious.

It was Hermione who pulled a very reluctant Harry from his seat. He joined with her and did his best to keep with the rhythm. He had to remember to kick at every swing and to occasionally let go and link arms with someone else.

Before long, drinks were being passed around and Harry thought for sure he would need a few of those in order to keep his wits. "Harry, why don't you and Ron show us what you've been learning in dance?"

Harry really wanted to decline. He'd rather sit and not do anything. "Ah, side cramp!" Harry wobbled over, hunchbacked, and sat on the floor. "I need to sit for a few."

"Aww, it's all that food you ate," said Ginny disappointedly.

"Mm… yeah. I believe it was," Harry replied.

The music began again, and while everyone joined hands in a collective dance, Harry slipped away out into the snowy night. Even from the here, Harry could hear the faint sound of laugher, family, and the violin.

Then a quick _pat pat pat_ was approaching him. He turned and saw Hermione with a curious look. "Harry? What are you doing out here?"

"Just getting some air."

Hermione was always able to see through Harry and so she said, "Something isn't right. I know."

"Everything is fine."

"No… you don't look at her the way you used to. I've seen you. Every time she is near, you seem… trapped. You look for a scapegoat every time, hoping to get away."

"What are you talking about?"

"Ginny. You don't feel for her anymore. And from what I can recall, you haven't for a while now."

There was no use denying the obvious. Just, why couldn't she see it? Ginny… why couldn't she tell for herself.

"Maybe she knows, but she's still hoping."

"To what? The notion that I'll want her again? I don't… not at all."

"Can I ask why? Is there someone else?"

Harry's eyes closed. "Yes," he almost hissed.

Hermione was in the least surprised. "Who?"

"Someone… at our school."

Hermione's brow twitched. She had never seen him with anyone else. And between his classes and other activities, when did he have time to see someone else?

"Do I know this person?"

"Yeah."

"Does Ginny?"

"Yes."

"Does this person know us?"

Harry nodded, stopped, then ran a hand through his hair as if frustrated.

"It's complicated?" Hermione wanted to be as compassionate as she could in order to help her dear friend.

Harry's head dropped backwards as he gazed into the endless night. "There are billions of people on this planet, and I just happened to find the most difficult one."

Hermione placed her hand over her mouth just before she gasped. "Could I ask for their name?"

Brilliant green eyes were upon her and never before did they look so lost, so hopeless, so desperate for answers. "I'm not gay, Hermione. I'm not like that. I'm not a pansy! A fairy! A queer!"

"I never accused you of such."

"I promise. I like girls. I've had two girlfriends. Two! That's more than Ron, Neville, or even Percy!"

"Maybe you're curious?" Hermione tried suggesting with the softest voice she could muster. "I've had a lady crush before."

"Really?" there was a gleam in Harry's eyes as he gripped Hermione's hand. "So it's normal?"

"Harry, really, there's no such thing as normal."

"But this means I'm not sick or anything, right?"

"Of course not. First and foremost, you are human. We are as curious as we are diverse."

"Yeah!" Harry nodded vigorously. "I'm just different from some blokes."

"You are different from every bloke I've ever met, silly. You are your own unique person."

Harry smiled and threw an arm around Hermione's shoulder. "So, out of curiosity, who was it?"

"Who was it? You mean my lady crush?" Hermione giggled, "Tonks… actually." And then her voice lost its sparkle. "I never meant to tell her… but it might've made an interesting story one day."

Harry's own head lower.

"She's in a better place, right? And we'll always look after Ted. For her and for Remus."

Harry touched Hermione's face then whispered softly, in the hopes of dragging her attention away from their departed friends, "Severus Snape."

Hermione's head snapped up, and her eyes widened with surprise. She seemed to be searching for something to say, but nothing came out.

"I know. Who could desire him? He's rotten to the core, his personality is just as nasty as his temper, and it's impossible to tell his friends from foes. Yet… he stirs this beast in me, Hermione. When he's there, alone with me, I feel so alive. I feel vulnerable, yet guarded. I feel flames again! He makes my tummy do that little flip thingy, and my heart do that funny dance. It's exhausting and nauseating, and even if he remains unattainable, it's bliss."

"Professor Snape… That's really farfetched, Harry. I could list countless reasons why even attempting to lure the man is completely mental, but at the same time, it's really incredible. You being able to see beyond his bitter self. Surely you see something in him, no?"

"Maybe I'm reading too much into it."

"Nevertheless, if you are going to pursue him, you must do something about Ginny. I do not wish to hurt her because she is my friend too, but I do not want to see her hurt because you went behind her back. Before you even consider making a move on him, even if I think nothing will come of it, you have to clear your conscience and break up with her. Kindly and respectfully."

Just then, they heard a door close softly, and Ginny was standing at the porch, watching them. "What's going on?"

A/N: If you can't tell, this chapter has been unedited. I'd like to spend more time editing it, but I'm about to enter another period during which I may not be able to write for a bit. I'd like to ask for an editor, but I know I'm a horrible writer to keep up with. I don't update regularly, and I tend to misplace emails. But if anyone is willing to put up with my habits, I'd appreciate the help.


	11. Familiars

_Two Left Feet_

Chapter 11

"Familiars"

April 24, 2012

Ginny stood more than 20 feet away yet Harry was certain her ears learned something. She was looking towards Harry with a perplexed expression and she wanted to hear for herself from Harry what was said and if it was about her. Not wanting to spoil the evening and completely botch the New Years, Harry's next instinct was to lie. "Hermione and I were just talking. Nothing else."

Harry then sidestepped and retired into the house. Ginny was left standing with Hermione who shortly after also went inside, leaving Ginny alone. Hermione nearly careered after Harry, who had already climbed two flights of stairs. "Harry!" she called to him. "Harry, listen to me!"

But Harry headed into the room he was sharing with Ron and began yanking clothes from out of his trunks.

"Harry!" Hermione stood over him like a disappointed parent. "You cannot continue like this. I will not allow it. You are an adult and you must handle this accordingly, or so help me, I will deliver the baggage."

Harry stopped fumbling for a second then rushed to close the door. "You know it's difficult. And who it involves."

"You cannot keep Ginny as a fallback! If you have any self-regard for yourself or respect for Professor Snape you will understand the magnitude of this situation. If I were him, I would not consider someone who can't make up his mind about whom he will pursue a serious candidate for a relationship."

"I'm working on it."

Hermione stood tall then said calmly, "You are distrait!" She then proceeded to march haughtily from Harry's room, only to peer in one last second to say, "You cannot come to a decision because your adolescent hormones are still getting the best of you!"

The door then slammed shut before she heard Harry whisper, "Maybe tomorrow."

SEVERUSSNAPE SEVERUSSNAPE SEVERUSSNAPE

However things were not looking up the following day. Harry could not come to terms with himself and verily, he just wanted Snape to turn up at the door so he could see him again.

Hermione was probably the only one person there that noticed Ginny's response to Harry's evasions. She had long since taken note of Harry's antsy behaviours and she too was beginning to avoid Harry, or roll her eyes every time he came into the room then darted elsewhere as if she had pressing matters on holiday.

"I know things aren't like they used to be. I'm just waiting for him to approach me."

Hermione lowered her book slightly, but was unable to comment any further.

"I'm alright, though. I feel like we lost that passion some time back. Best not to force it."

"Have you thought about confronting Harry yourself?"

"Maybe I should. It doesn't seem like he'll find his balls before the holiday ends."

Ginny stood then left the room, heading in the exact direction Harry had gone. Hermione set her book aside. Things were unraveling faster than she anticipated; nevertheless it would be good for both of them to move on.

Harry was sitting on the back porch, watching gnomes scurrying in the gardens when Ginny nearly shouted at him, "Forgot you balls, Harry James Potter!"

Harry nearly jumped into the garden himself! And he most certainly was standing by the time Ginny finished her statement. "What did you say to me?"

"You heard me," she raised her head high and flicked back her red locks of hair, "You ball-less man."

Hermione was standing nearby, and she had slapped her hand over her mouth in order to keep herself from laughing. She never recalled a time either her or Ron made a comment about Harry's balls. At the present moment, she knew Harry would not incur the loss of dignity and would rather face her.

Ginny then stepped forward and nearly shoved her chest at him. Harry stood taller and then Ginny withdrew her wand. Forgetting his back in the room, Harry began to make hasty steps backwards as Ginny charged at him and soon, they were far out into the snow and Hermione could no longer hear them, except for the occasional yelp and laughter. They were playing in the snow like they used to before - throwing snow balls, playing tag, pushing one another over. But only minutes later did they settle down to what Hermione hoped was a serious talk.

They stayed like that for a while so Hermione returned to reading her book.

Perhaps an hour later, Harry walked into the room and plopped down next to Hermione on the couch. "So?" she asked.

He looked at her. "She's frank. At least it was easy," they both smiled and Harry personally felt like he had un-heaved a heavy load. "Oh, and I didn't spoil the holidays."

HARRYPOTTER HARRYPOTTER HARRYPOTTER

Molly was hustling about the drawer room, counting heads and making sure everyone had their poppers, glasses, and hats. She was sporting a hat that flared little fireworks and Arthur hat was charmed to countdown and then cheer.

Ginny and her brothers were chattering and dancing around the room. Ron and Hermione were curled up on the couch whispering things to one another and Harry was watching the clock. Soon it would be countdown and everyone would be cheering to the new years. Harry took the initiative and slipped out before anyone could encourage his participation. Just outside the house Harry found comfort in the cool breeze and the way the snow crunched beneath his weight. He would have liked to have stayed here all night, if it weren't for the possibility that he would freeze within just a few hours. He pulled his coat over his face and huffed against its fabric. The land beyond was tranquil and dark, with nothing but the moon to light patches of snow and the tops of trees. Harry leaned against the house and closed his eyes. Already he could hear everyone preparing for the countdown, and the occasional 'where's Harry?' It was enough to make him chuckle.

Then suddenly he heard the shifting and crunching of snow. His eyes flared open, expecting to see some sort of wild beast, or at least a garden gnome. What he saw instead was Ginny. Her hair was down, her posture was stiff, and she was wearing an oversized coat and boots. Harry shifted slightly, unnerved by her dead, unblinking stare. "Ginny?"

She took a step forward and Harry was nearly ready to blurt his excuse for slipping away when suddenly Ginny pushed him hard against the wall. That's when Harry noticed she was not wearing the same outfit from just a minute ago. "You changed."

Still, she said nothing and her eyes remained riveted to him as if she was searching, waiting, calculating. Verily, this creped Harry out. "Um, Ginny? You alright?"

From inside the house, the countdown had begun, "Ten!"

The only pressing thought in Harry's mind was Ginny's queer fixed look. "Shouldn't you be inside?"

Finally a response! She smirked and somehow Harry felt his gut twisting.

"Five!"

The next numbers faded before they could touch Harry's ears, and this was due to Ginny, who had covered Harry's eyes with her hand and was leaning in rather slowly, as if expecting resistance on Harry's part. No resistance was met, and so her lips tentatively touched Harry's and though they remained there for only a short while, she gasped and tore herself away from Harry as if he had done something she didn't approve of. Her eyes then narrowed as they searched his rather curious countenance. "We should be doing this, Ginny. You said you wanted to move on, and so did I." Harry tried to explain meekly. He really did not know what to say in these queer situations.

Ginny's brow rose inquisitively, and then she turned from him quickly and fled. It was only a second later that Harry caught a whiff of something comforting and familiar, and Harry wasn't sure if it were from her or the gentle breeze. Either way, he too turned and went back into the house. His eyes sought for Ginny, but instead of playfully hiding herself as Harry suspected she would, she was sitting on the couch with her brothers, talking loudly about a prank George had pulled on Percy one Christmas many years ago. How far she was into the story and how everyone sat around her made it seem like she had never left. Her clothes were different too. She had on a thick green sweater and jeans with thick, cozy red socks. Harry was staring blatantly at her, and she noticed rather quickly. "Come sit down you goof and stop staring," she then turned back to her brothers to finish her account on the story.

For the second time that night, Harry felt his stomach twisting with uncertainty, but he really did not want to dwell on the possibility that Ginny knew how to be in two different places at once. It was her alright. Harry was sure of that. Maybe she threw that oversized coat somewhere. Harry's eyes scanned the room briefly before he concluded was overacting on a silly, minuscule thing. He mentally shrugged it off and plopped down next to Ron, who was busy feasting on a bowl of chocolate covered something. Only a handful of days remained for their time at the Burrow, and though Harry was having a lovely time here, he had a truly pressing matter to return to.

SEVERUSSNAPE SEVERUSSNAPE SEVERUSSNAPE

At last the day came when Harry and his friends would return for the last segments of their semester at Hogwarts' school. To say Harry was palm sweaty excited to return would be an understatement. His hands were twitching like he was imagining himself air playing an instrument, and his leg was thumping the floor in an uneven tempo. At times, Hermione even caught Harry whispering incoherent words to himself while his eyes remained fixed on a corner. "Blimey, Harry." Ron finally said when he had had enough. "What did you eat for breakfast?"

"Bread. Eggs. Bread? I donno!"

Since Ron knew nothing of Harry's newfound affections towards their professor, he remained in a blur. Hermione, on the other hand, had her suspicions that Harry's restless acts were partly due to their every approaching tryst. She, though, found nothing about Harry's impatient behaviour cute. It was distracting her from her readings.

By the time the train had pulled into the station, it had begun to snow again and everything outside the train seemed to be covered in a white, even blanket of snow. It was getting dark, it was freezing, and Harry was bouncing on the tips of his toes trying to get around other students. "Where did he go?" asked Ron.

"He ran off!" Hermione yanked Ron's arm in the only direction Harry could have gone. Harry was careering fast, as if there were a monster at his feet only inches away from snapping his feet and tripping him.

By the time they had reached the wagons, Harry was nowhere in sight. Hermione stood there with her hand on her hip in slight disbelief.

Harry was steadily approaching the front gates and with his newfound excitement, his twitchy behaviour begun anew. If the other students in the wagon with him noticed, they did not show it.

Upon reaching the gates, Harry jumped off the wagon before it had even come to a complete stop. Though the road was covered in ice and incredibly slippery, Harry managed to make haste pass the gates and up the slopes towards the castle, which glistened like a beacon and lit up the night sky for miles.

He was not the first to arrive at the castle and just behind him were many more students shuffling up the slopes, weary from their long trips and already aching with hunger. Harry had much more pressing matters on his mind than food and really his stomach felt too queasy for a meal. He was just pondering on where he should go, or if he should even attempt to look for this bitter older wizard. He might've even been present in the Great Hall, already sitting at his seat and waiting for dinner to start. Or he might be in his office, preparing lectures with which to bore, confuse, and challenge his students. If he were in his private chambers, Harry would not know where to look. Harry sighed, defeated. He would just have to hope that Snape was feeling hungry and would grace him with his presence at dinner.

Just as Harry stepped on the path towards the Great Hall though, his ears heard music fading just the slightest and it wasn't until then that he noticed music playing. No one else seemed to have heard it and with newfound hope Harry slipped off to find the source of that soft melody. Time slowed after that and with every foot step, Harry felt like he was going nowhere, like he was never going to reach the source, but the music grew ever clearer, ever stronger, it was vibrating in his ear and then he had walked pass a door and was greeted from within. "Mr. Potter," said a rich voice woven with silk. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

HARRYPOTTER HARRYPOTTER HARRYPOTTER

It wasn't a simple thing really. This dance he was being instructed to do. As it were, the Waltz challenged him with its most rudimentary of steps, and Snape hardly made things easier. But Harry soon found himself being led, whether forward or astray, he did not care. Harry just determined that relying on Snape to guide him flowed naturally. His arms raised Harry's with minimal touches. Then Snape shaped Harry's posture with the slightest pressure from his torso. "Forward," he whispered, "Count with me. One, two, three. "

At this moment, Snape stepped away from his young student to observe supposed fruits of his labour. However, with each carefully taken step, Snape found himself looking less and less upon the grace of Harry's feet and more at the curvature of Harry's neck. Snape cleared his throat in the moment of weakness and resituated himself. "Have you been practising?"

Without fumbling over his footage, Harry replied, "As often as privacy allowed me."

"That tells me nothing."

Harry chuckled, "Every night, sir." Then the professor raised a hand to his chin pensively and Harry had to add, "Alone."

The professor crossed his arms and Harry knew that was as much of an approval as he would get. It felt enlightening really, having to assure his professor of something that was never promised, but to Harry it awarded him comfort and advancement in this game. "Keep with the tempo and try not to be so stiff," Snape said flatly.

It was a different ordeal entirely dancing with oneself and pried from the guidance of another. Harry found it hardly beneficial except for recalling routine steps. Without a partner, Harry rarely focused on his position and flow of his arms or anything above his torso for that matter. His head was mostly slung over watching his feet and occasionally bumping into furniture. A week into his isolated practises and Harry was absentmindedly missing Snape and his guidance. It had then become something that Harry could only understand in feelings and within himself. This yearning for someone for more than just… educational purposes.

Harry footing had become sloppy and Snape was quick to act. He gripped Harry by the waist and brought him back into proper stance. "Perhaps, you've had enough for tonight."

"No, I'm fine, really, it's just a little different when you have no dance partner."

The tone of Snape's voice dipped as he whispered uncomfortably close to Harry's ear, "Was that an excuse?"

Harry shuddered and his knees almost bucked. The way Snape interacted with him had long since surpassed the appropriate boundaries between a teacher and their student and still… everything he did made Harry swoon. Merlin, how Harry loved the way his professor baited him. "No, sir."

"Then we are done for tonight."

Harry motioned to move away when suddenly he felt the iron grip of his professor withholding him from taking another step further. Harry looked up and then was wrenched forwards and back into Snape's arms. "Learn from me," he would have to make this pellucid.

The professor's moves were swift, balanced and confident. He swirled around and brought Harry even closer until Harry could feel Snape's afternoon shadow against his temples. "This isn't about repetition. Nor is it about feelings, Potter. To dance is to learn to make art. Understand the language of the bodies. Show me discipline. Demonstrate confidence. Focus on something other than how I feel against you."

Then there was an intruding knock upon the door that was fierce and impatient. Snape was quick and had moved away from Harry as he waved his hand and the door opened. Harry flushed with guilt when the person behind the door was none other than Hermione. Her knowledge of his intentions towards Snape made him wish he could coil away and hide behind something. "Yes, Ms. Granger?"

"Um, Harry wasn't at dinner and we were looking for him."

Harry had a pressing urge to chuckle. He was sure that wasn't the real reason she came looking for him.

"Good evening then, Mr. Potter." Snape turned and strutted out door before Harry could have another word and Hermione's eyes fell upon him heavily. She shook her head and pursed like a parent about to scold a child.

She then walked forwards towards him and in a hushed, yet irritated voice she asked him, "What are you thinking?"

"We were just reviewing steps, I promise."

"Not that, silly. I mean, how is it that you come to him the first hour of the first night here? You couldn't even wait until classes started tomorrow? You make yourself seem too eager, Harry. How do you expect for him to seek you if you come to him at every call?"

These were one of those exceptional times when Harry wished Hermione was wrong. For the duration of their walk back together to the Gryffindor House, Hermione berated him for his availability and out of control hormones. Harry only walked beside her with a slumped head. He wished this wasn't entirely his fault.


	12. Liberation

_Two Left Feet_

Chapter 12

"Liberation"

June 25, 2012

It was later in the evening when Harry had returned from Hogsmeade with the intentions of retiring in the dorms. A blissful thing he had set his heart upon, but unhappily, no such thing would happen. He just finished trotting up the hill when quite suddenly, his best mate came hurrying towards with a face as fiercely red as the shade of his hair. Harry hadn't the chance to inquire what had strangled his bollocks. "So that's it then, mate. You're just going to dump my sister after everything she's gone through for you." Ron's shoulders were stiff, his arms stuck at his sides, but he was inching closer to Harry, using his body as an intimidation mechanism. Harry obligingly took one step back, not with caution, but out of discomfort.

"Blimey, Ron," Harry was in no quarreling mood. Wearily, he replied, "Everything's alright."

"I found my sister sobbing yesterday! How can you tell me everything's alright? You broke my sister's heart, and after… _everything_! How do you expect to find someone that can surmount her efforts?"

There were really very close to the castle, and with a few good sprints, Harry could escape. The thought of dueling Ron was thrilling in the least. He'd rather tickle a dragon. "C'mon, Ron. It happened, yes, but it's for the best."

"For the best, really? Is my family suddenly not good enough for you? Now that you were clearly the chosen one? Let me tell you something, you suck at dancing!"

Harry felt his chest tighten. He stepped forward.

"Is that right?" Harry was moments away from shoving Ron onto the snow. He could feel the veins on his head throbbing, and his face warming. Ron was trying him purposely.

And then Ron drew his wand.

Harry quickly drew his and veered to the left. He had missed a stunning spell by a heart racing fraction of a second. Upon standing, he had to side step to avoid yet another spell. By the third attempt, Harry had the footing to block it.

"Are you mad, Mr. Potter! What are you doing?" Slughorn had come hurrying from the castle towards them. He then looked at Ron and said, "I hope you both have a very good explanation for your behaviours. Put your wands away this instance."

Not without reluctance, Ron was about to sheath his wand when a voice proposed otherwise, "Perhaps they ought to duel it out as two adult wizards."

Slughorn nearly jumped when Snape appeared to have been at his side the entire time. "Oh, Severus! Surely you don't mean that."

Snape then crossed his arms. "You underestimate their ability."

Slughorn released a breath of defeat. "You've gone mad." He then turned to Ron, "Good luck, Ralph."

Harry hadn't the chance to throw Snape a nasty eye. Almost instantaneously, Snape voice rose, "Wands at the ready."

Ron was truly eager, his eyes glistened and his attention was solely Harry's.

"Begin."

A spell, crackling as it soared, came hurling towards Harry and he instinctively threw himself in the snow once again. He hardly had the chance to stand before a second one approached and missed by centimeters. While situating himself, he tried his luck with a nonverbal spell. Ron was hit, and the second the spell touched Ron's sweater it burnt through and onto Ron's arm. Harry regretted this instantly and wished that they would put their wands away and call a truce. Ron would not have this. Angrily, he fired spells after spells blindly until all Harry could do was reflect them. And then he was hit, and it felt awful. He was on his back the next second with his wits nearly gone. He didn't hear the next incantation coming his way. He was hit again.

Slughorn raised his hands slightly in shock. "Merlin's beard, Severus. Ralph is going to kill Harry!"

But Harry managed to deflect the next oncoming spells and even send a second wave of spells which knocked Ron clear off his feet, giving Harry a chance to back away.

"I don't believe this is how wizards duel, Severus."

Still, Snape said nothing.

"What are they fighting over anyways?" Slughorn asked.

"Nonsense," replied Snape frankly.

Slughorn raised a brow inquisitively and then dropped his face and shrugged.

At this point, Ron had worn himself out and Harry was still holding himself up. Though it was evident that Harry wished to seize this and come to terms much more than Ron. Ron raised his wand then, ready to have another round when nothing more than just a speckle of magic spat from the wand. Ron was more tired than Harry conceived, or maybe just unable to focus. And then Ginny came from the castle accompanied by two of her friends. She ran towards Ron with a bitter face and a few nasty words. "You brainless dunce!" she pushed him and with ease he fell onto the snow with a thud. "I told you I wasn't upset with Harry! Blimey, men are so thick."

"Huh?" Ron stared at her, "I thought you told me you were upset Harry dumped you."

"No. I told you I was upset that things hadn't worked out, but everything was alright."

"Oh," was all Ron had to say.

Ginny then turned to Harry. "Oh, Harry, I'm so sorry." She started towards him but then Snape intervened and snatched Harry's arm with a firm grip. He glanced once at Ginny before he forcefully tugged Harry towards the castle. Harry found he could do little more than allowed himself to be guided through the halls, away from the light, and deep into the dungeons. It was then that Harry wanted to ask where Snape was leading him, but then had a feeling that he should know. His stomach did that ridiculous flip thing again accompanied by a tightening. He was suddenly nervous and his hands were beginning to perspire. It felt magical, but he knew it was very human. The halls were barely lit, and their path was dark, both literally and figuratively. It was moments before his mind popped a curious thought, since this was not the way to his classrooms, where was Snape leading him?

They came to a portrait of a doe, laying upon a meadow in the moonlight. It's back glistened silver and his face was nearly black. It turned to Snape who then whispered, "Prince."

The doe gave a curt nod as the portrait swung open and a door appeared behind it. Snape extended his arm towards the door then looked at Harry. "After you," his lip curled slightly.

Tensely, Harry found his feet again and with uneven and jumbled up steps, he stumbled pass Snape and opened the door to his quarters. Upon entering, Harry had the distinct feeling that Snape never brought anyone into his quarters. The place, though littered heavily with books and parchment, potion filled caldrons, and vials of creatures and chemicals, was pleasantly charming in its chaotic order. "Let me organize. I've been doing a bit of work." Snape moved some heavy files from the small couch by the hearth onto the floor. "There, Potter. Have a seat." Harry reeled towards the couch with the heavy thought of being within _his_ chambers. His knees buckled and he collapsed in a mad rush onto the couch.

Snape, took no notice as he then began scrambling about this incredibly long table with the intentions of finding something. He raised vials to his eyes, checked them then put them aside to grab another glass. Harry's gaze didn't stay with Snape for long. He readily took noticed of how small Snape's quarters really were. Everything was in one rectangular room, save for the bathroom, which was adjacent by separated by a wooden door. The fireplace faced the couch, which behind was Snape's desk and shelves, filled and pouring out with books and papers. Across was the table, covered in potions and beyond that was another cabinet which was either filled with potions, books, or clothing. Across from that was a carefully made bed. The only neatly arranged thing in this room.

Harry moved towards Snape, careful not to interrupt him, but as he approached the older wizard, Snape turned and pressing something cold to Harry's lips. Obligingly, he drank from the small vial. He was given no other choice.

"What was that?" he asked, countenance cringing after a bitter flavor bit his tongue.

"It will help," Snape said plainly before touching Harry's face softly with his hands. Harry tensed again, and Snape in turn leaned forwards. His eyes fell onto Harry's face, scrutinizing. And then he raised a soft plush like thing to his face and carefully dabbed something on his wounds. "This should also help."

"What is it?" Harry asked again, his voice softer than he would have liked.

"If I told you, you still wouldn't know what it if for or what it does."

With Snape so close, Harry darted his eyes away, trying to avoid making that awkward and uncomfortable coupling of the eyes. The proximity was making his mind spin in the sort of way that reminded him of dancing with this old, loathsome man. He turned his attention instead upon a potion that was very familiar to him. Its dark red color and thick, mud-like texture was like that of…. Harry's thoughts came to a halt and his mouth was suddenly dry.

Harry stopped his mind again then caught Snape's eyes. The man had been watching him. "You are familiar with that potion, Mr. Potter?" Snape smirked then backed away slightly.

"Not me per say," and that was all Harry wished to say. He looked at the potion again while Snape moved away from him.

"Stay there, Potter." Snape moved towards the further end of the room to look among some shelves, but it was close to the bed and that's when Harry decided he planned on losing a lot more than house points tonight.

Harry reconnected with his legs and forced himself upright. And though he was stiff and awkward, he soon found himself before the bed. He turned and ungracefully fell backwards upon it. The sheets conformed to his shape and he knew then that he could not get up. Snape said nothing. He continued to go about his business.

Initiation would have to come from Harry. "Someone used polyjuice potion recently I think."

It was quiet for a moment until Snape asked, "Their intentions?"

"To kiss me."

The air never felt thicker, Harry's lungs have never had to work harder to breathe. He waited.

"Who did they choose to disguise themselves as?" Snape was casually browsing through a large leather bound book.

"Ginny."

Snape's gaze fell upon him. "And how did you know it was not her? How did the kiss differentiate from what she's accustomed you to?"

"Immediately I knew it was not her. Ginny… her kisses are like little attacks against mine. She kisses me harder, with teeth and stuff. I don't know, I guess this person was patient… willing to wait."

Harry could no longer hear the sound of pages flipping. Instead he heard a book close and then felt a dip in the mattress. Snape had seated himself beside Harry. "No one has raided your supplies I take?"

"What is your conclusion?"

Harry could have choked on his own words, "You kissed me." In saying it to directly to Snape, Harry felt an overwhelming about of adrenaline rushing about his body, and he could not stop himself, "I just don't know why you didn't have the bollocks to do it in person."

"Ten points from Gryffindor for disagreeable language."

Harry clung to his courage and stood. He then faced Snape, and then pressed his hands against Snape's shoulders. He obligingly fell backwards. "What do you want from me?" Snape whispered.

"Did you do it? I want to hear it from you."

The man's breathing hitched, "Potter…."

Harry needed no further confirmation. He had pinned Snape to his own bed.

His hands were shaking and the trembling of it vibrated through his arms, and consciously made him dizzy with excitement. His lips then parted, and he wanted so carelessly to whisper this man's familiar name. Here Snape laid, beneath him, his hair flared across the equally black satin sheets. Snape had submitted himself to Harry. He only looked up at Harry with a thoughtful and dubious gaze. What are you going to do with me? They seemed to ask along with the question: What could you possibly want from me?

And then Harry's left arm gave out. He was going to do this. Snape had presented him with the chance, and they done this before. Sort of. Kind of. But not like this, not in the privacy of Snape's quarters.

Harry leaned forwards, his thoughts gone in an instance with the eruption of need and impatience. His lips fell upon Snape's and demanded the exploration, the heavy touches, and his acceptance. In turn, Snape's hand gripped Harry, drawing him in closer before slightly pushing him back. "Harry," he breathed against the young man's lips.

Whatever concern Snape had was too late. They had crossed that line some time ago, and Harry couldn't return. "Professor," Harry aggressively pressed forwards for another kiss. He felt like he was conquering while becoming mush. He was losing his sense of placement, and then Snape flipped him over and Harry realized what he was doing with his professor.

The words "get out" never registered with Harry.

But after a few tries, Harry finally heard him.

"We cannot do this. Never, as your professor. No matter how evident the signs. No matter how strong the urges."

Harry could have slapped the man for his inconvenient timing were he not drunk with need and lost in his confusion.

"You need to leave."

Harry couldn't find the strength to say anything, so then he thought they would just have to finish this when he had more sense to fight for what he wanted. He pulled himself from under Snape and hurried from that room quicker than frightened rabbit.

He found himself in the courtyard next, and with the bitterly cold air, his senses were renewed and Harry felt butterflies taking off and an animal roaring with triumph in his stomach. He had won, in his own little way. He made Snape cave for him, and he had kissed him and it felt so bloody good and he felt alive. He whoa-ed into the night and raised his fist towards the falling snow before falling back and feeling his heightened body temperature clash with the ice.

Love was hardly a word to describe how he felt, and how so far gone it had surpassed anything he had ever felt with another person. Snape was the only person on his mind, this constant image of black drapes with a pale face and thin lips that knew how to touch his. And then he laughed a little. "Dad, I think I'm gay."


	13. Por Una Cabeza

_a/n: _This will be the final chapter. Thank you all for reading. I hope you all had as much fun reading as I did writing.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. It all belongs to JK Rowling, Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Inc., Warner Bros., and any other entities involved. I do not make money/profit from this.

_Two Left Feet_

Chapter 13

"_Por Una Cabeza"_

"_Anyone who thinks that sunshine is pure happiness, has never danced in the rain"_

The clock ticked on well after midnight, and Snape found himself staring deeply into the fire, while wild thoughts ran rampant. He could not close his eyes without feeling the tingling of his misdeed. What had possessed him to allow Harry to take control like that? He knew he was so much stronger than this. Had his mind sloshed around too many times while twirling? Was it due to being in a closed space with the young man? Did it happen while getting accustomed to touching the young man? When exactly had Snape lost control?

They always danced like no one was looking. While together, they learned how to follow each other's rhythm. While apart, Harry practised. Dancing had indeed become a poetic expression made flesh through motions. It was everything Snape had described to Harry.

Tonight was the first night Snape regretted that he could not drink. "I regret to say I may have gone astray, but I suppose I do not regret these last few months. They have indeed made my life interesting."

HARRY POTTER HARRYPOTTER HARRYPOTTER

This time, Hermione was waiting just outside the dormitories. She was half ready to scold Harry for his childish rendezvous with his professor, but upon seeing Harry with a face full of grinning teeth, she stopped. "Harry?"

"Hermione!" He could have picked her up and kissed her. "How have you been?!"

"Seemingly, not as well as you." She hesitated to ask. "What happened?"

His hair was full of snow flakes, his cheeks were bright red against his pale skin, and he never looked better. "Nothing. I was just out for a walk." He then moved past her, "Night. I need some sleep!" He scurried past the portrait and Hermione didn't hear from him for the rest of the night.

Wednesday night was dance night once again, and Harry found himself arriving a little earlier than usual. He admittedly was gleeful and just as hopeful of seeing Snape for the first time in nearly 24 hours. He could not sit down or join the other students. His feet were restless and seemingly bouncing on their own beat while he moved about the room in a quick rhythm.

Harry came out of his trance only when he heard McGonagall's voice. He turned around and saw that Professor Slughorn was accompanying her. His pulse made a sudden leap only to drop devastatingly low. She only ever brought one assistant, and tonight, it would not be Snape. He waited quietly while she gave several announcements about their continuation with the tango and about Slughorn's availability for extra assistance outside of class.

A moment later she clapped her hands and the music began. While students hurried to find their partners, Harry pulled himself towards the back of the hall, and quietly slipped away. If his time learning to appreciate dance has taught him anything, it's that so long as the music is going, you must dance. Harry planned on swaying along until his dear professor could go on no longer.

It must've been the dominating male aspect of himself that drove him to deliberately pursue Snape. That with a tad bit of senselessness. Nevertheless, Harry was a chaser and if he could catch a snitch, he could catch anything, even a grouchy old wizard. Lucky for him, the dragon of the dungeons had already given Harry his password. All Harry had left to do was enter.

And he did, knowingly of what dwelled behind the tall painting. So the man could be snappy and bitter, and a bit of a pessimist. Harry just had to wrestle with the bark, because his bite would be a reward.

He saw Snape sitting leisurely by the hearth, a book forgotten upon his lap as he stared into the fire. "You must've known I was coming."

"Good lord, I had hoped you wouldn't. And it is due to my hopefulness that I have not prepared a speech for you." He reconnected with the forgotten book and flipped carelessly through the pages. "I just read an entire book about the importance of vigilance. Ironic, isn't it."

"Maybe you just wanted someone else to lead for a change."

Snape's eyes finally fell upon Harry. "A person with two left feet cannot lead very well. Maybe that's why I'm in such a mess." Snape snapped his fingers and his door swung open. "This is your chance to leave. Best take it and be done with it."

It took Harry a moment before he shut it.

"You weren't in class today." Harry felt his blood rushing towards his head, his legs suddenly felt wobbly, and he held onto the closest chair to steady himself.

"So you sought me out. What are you hoping to accomplish?" Snape's voice was but a whisper.

"Lessons. I am counting on your tutelage."

"You are doing so well in class. You no longer need my assistance, so go about your schooling, and leave me to be. You've done enough." Snape stood to leave, but before he could even take a step away, he found his wrist restrained by a grip so strong, he could no undo it. "Let me go, Harry."

"I can't, sir."

Sometimes fewer words said more than many, and in that moment, Snape felt it.

Then Harry's hand slid down to take the older wizard's hand in his. Harry could have fainted from the pressure. His head felt so hot and his stomach was stirring up a storm. He was so say so much, which might've been nothing more than daft remarks, but at least his ears wouldn't be ringing.

Snape turned carefully and closed his eyes. He inhaled deeply before intertwining their fingers together. The gesture was quick and Harry looked up at Snape with disbelief in his eyes. "I am asking you kindly, Harry. Please leave."

SEVERUSSNAPE SEVERUSSNAPE SEVERUSSNAPE

Some night, the halls were colder than others. Tonight, they were especially cold, and even more so lonely. Harry had no intentions of returning to his dorms quite yet. He needed the solitude to reconsider his feelings and either strategize a battle plan, or a way to empty his mind of this hopeless endeavor. He slouched against the cold stone walls and had only closed his eyes for a moment before he heard light feet skipping towards him.

It was Luna, wearing a white bouncy dress. She almost looked like a dancing fairy, coming out of the darkness. She twirled and hummed gently as she moved along. "Hello Harry."

"Luna, who are you dancing with?"

"No one at the moment, silly. But I do imagine Neville often. I'm hoping an amospore will get him soon. You've heard of them? They attach to your heart and plant seeds that help you fall in love." Luna reached out to Harry and he received her. They danced around in a quick, upbeat rhythm while Luna kindly asked, "Do you love dancing with anyone as much as I love dancing with Neville?"

Harry was quite taken aback. He could only sort of nod. This amused Luna. "Are you embarrassed? You should never be ashamed of whom you really love. Love is not evil."

He smiled as he gradually came to a stop.

"You should have been in class tonight. We heard a beautiful song written by Carlos Gardel. _Por una Cabeza_." She said is softly, slowly, in order to say it right. "I think we'll dance to it again Friday night. Please come, Harry. It'll make your heart swoon."

HARRYPOTTER HARRYPOTTER HARRYPOTTER

What does the heart want? Does it ever really know, or does it learn to accept what's given and to be satisfied with that? Can it eventually learn to require more? Or will it die from the lack of nourishment?

Harry rolled his head back, wondering why he even cared anymore. Yes, it had only been two days, but his heart had plummeted to the bottom of his stomach and hasn't bothered to come back up.

McGonagall instructed her class to begin once again, and Harry found himself with an arm full of someone who might as well not have an identity. He couldn't see them, only past them, and it was terrible. He couldn't lie to himself. Suddenly nothing about life seemed to have its usual spark. Especially dance. Everything reminded him of Snape, and yes, their weird sort of detachment left Harry feeling raw, but it had only happen just the other day.

A few minutes later they changed partners and Harry dragged on, not really dancing. He needed these next few days to sulk. Remorse now, heal gradually. All should be well soon. He was going to graduate soon anyways, and then he would never see that snarky bat ever again.

Somehow the next hour and a half passed, and just as people began to exit the classroom, Harry found himself settling onto one of the chairs. It was Hermione who approached him then. "He dumped you? Rejected you? What did he do to you to make you so sour?"

"Oh Merlin, Hermione, I do not want to talk about it."

"You need to get it off your chest. C'mon. Word vomit. Just start somewhere and we'll go from there."

Harry looked up them jumped to his feet as if the chair bucked him off. Snape had entered the hall and was making his way seemingly towards Harry. He had removed his outer cloak, and his outfit clung wonderfully to the strong form of his body.

Hermione's mouth hung slightly as she struggled for words. "Well, Harry, I think I'll leave you to be." She moved past the professor as he came to stand just before his young student.

The room emptied fairly quickly, for the students were tired and ready to retire for the night. It was a Friday night though, and Snape was unconcerned with Harry's sleep schedule. He offered Harry a hand and Harry could either accept or reject it.

Harry's hand promptly grabbed Snape's and once it latched on would not let go. Harry was thus pulled forwards and a song for just the two of them played. It was the song Luna had told them about. Snape took a few steps backwards and Harry willing followed. Around and around the classroom they moved, taking over the floor because it was all for them.

For just the beginning, they took tentative steps. Carefully feeling the floor, the music, and each other. Harry rested his head against Snape's shoulder, concentrating, breathing, all the while trying to predict his partner's steps. He was then thrust forwards only to be brought back against Snape's chest. Snape smiled, then dipped his wildly handsome partner. Harry's hair flared about and swooshed with their quickening movements.

Snape then turned Harry around and they ended their dance with a gentle dip. While Harry was bent over, Snape whispered softly into his ears, "You still dance with two left feet."

Harry tried to smile gently, but he had too much excitement to contain. "I'm getting better."

"Yes," the older man whispered.

Harry then looked up at Snape and asked, "You came for me tonight… why?"

Snape gathered Harry's hands in his and brought them to his lips. "I need to know, Mr. Potter, if this is what you want. What you truly want."

"You're a man…"

Snape gave Harry a dubious look, "Yes. As are you."

"So how do you make me feel like this?"

"I must be doing something right. Something no other has been able to do for you. Or you wouldn't be so persistent."

"I want you to kiss me."

"You haven't answered me."

Harry took Snape's head between his hands, "Yes… I want to be with you. I'm taken with you…."

Snape then looked over Harry's shoulder and around the classroom one last time before he gripped his young lover's hips and brought him in for kiss.

By the way Snape's lips touched Harry's, he knew instantly that the man was scared, doubtful, but still… he was willing, he was passionate, and he was taking control. "Harry, I need you to know, I need more."

Harry's cheeks flushed a hot red. "Yeah…, fuck, me too." With that, Snape's lips traveled to Harry's neck, and with a gentleness Harry did not know Snape possessed, the man sucked, nipped, and kissed.

"Will you give me everything, Harry?"

"Yeah…" Harry felt his chest become inflamed.

Snape pulled away from Harry's neck and looked back into the young man's eyes. "I need you to hear it… I love you." Harry jumped and latched himself to Snape's lips, feeling a sense of happiness he didn't know was possible. Harry might have not really known when it happened, but he fell, and when this lion fell, he fell hard.

A/N: That's all folks! Thank you for reading!


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